Just Another Ordinary Day
by MistyLuck
Summary: Or, at least, it was until the pasta went missing. Now the island isn't quite so deserted, but the Axis Powers don't know who it is. All Japan hopes is that it isn't a certain northern neighbor of his, because, despite claiming he is nothing like his sister, Russia has been trying to get Japan to marry him for years. Rated T for mild violence, swearing, and BL (Russia x Japan)
1. Who's There?

**Okay, so this is a story based off of a role-play between one of my friends and I that was spawned from pure boredom, so please don't tell me that the idea is weird or makes no sense because I already know that. Overall, this is a test for myself to try and turn a crack role-play into an actual story, so sorry if I fail (hopefully not, I spent enough time editing that I could have finished chapter 2 by now :/ . . .). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the idea to Hetalia, nor the characters. If I did . . . I don't know what would happen, but it would be different.**

**Warning: This story will _eventually_ contain mild violence, swearing, and BL (don't like, don't read).**

**I apologize in advance for my weird writing style. I normally write the thoughts straight into the paragraph, but I tried to seperate them out this time.**

- Thoughts are (hopefully) surrounded by dashes -

_Italics are just emphasis on words, not thoughts_

_'Italics surrounded in quote marks are quotes from the past'_

**Sorry for the confusion . . .**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

It was just another ordinary day on the beach.

"Ve~! Germany, may I make pasta?" Italy asked. He stretched lithely, like a cat, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before jumping to his feet. He skipped over to Germany, who rolled his eyes.

- Yes, just another ordinary day – Japan mused. – When Germany-san says no, Italy-kun will start begging. Then he will make pasta anyway, wander away to find something else to entertain himself, and then have a mid-morning siesta. As soon as he wakes up, the process will begin anew. This normally repeats at least three or four times a day. Westerners are quite strange. –

"No, Italy, you can't," Germany replied, slightly exasperated.

"Ve~. But Germany, pasta is so yummy! Pretty please? I'll make some lasagna with the vegetables Japan found! It will taste so good, and then we can go explore this island and find more things to mix with the pasta! Please, Germany?"

"No, Italy. I already said you can't, didn't I?"

Italy tilted his head, confused, and Japan could not help but mirror his sentiments. Normally, Germany would start a long-winded lecture about why Italy '_may not make pasta because it wastes food'_ and how '_pasta is only empty carbs, which are not good for soldiers like us', _not that Italy _could not_ make pasta. Realization struck Japan, and he could not help but let out a gasp of surprise.

"G-Germany-san," he stammered, worried, "w-when you say 'cannot' do you mean-"

"We-we only have potatoes left," Germany confessed, eyeing Italy nervously. And for good reason, too, because, after a moment standing there in confusion, Italy's eyes opened in sheer panic. They darted around the camp, hoping beyond hope that what Germany said was a lie. He began digging through all the boxes and packs strewn around camp in a fit of desperation.

"It is okay, Italy-kun. We will find something else to eat; there is no need for worry," Japan said quickly, trying to comfort the now nearly hysterical Italian, but to no avail. After encountering nothing but boxes and boxes of potatoes in the food supplies, Italy fainted. Germany rushed forward to catch him in his arms, placing the unconscious Italian gently on the ground.

"I didn't mean for him to find out like that," the German murmured guiltily.

"Germany-san, why did you not tell me about the shortage earlier? We could have found a way around this outcome," Japan inquired, a bit more shortly than usual.

"I only realized we were out of the ingredients for, well, anything besides potato dishes, a few moments ago. I was sure we had enough to last a while when I checked last night, but I must have been mistaken."

"Ah, and Italy-kun did wake up surprisingly early today," Japan nodded finally in understanding. He sighed, "Now the question becomes: what do we do? Most likely, Italy-kun will not wake up until he smells pasta . . . or something similar."

"No, he won't." Germany affirmed, and then winced slightly as he went to sit.

Noticing this, Japan's eyebrows nit with worry on his otherwise impassive face. "Germany-san, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Germany grunted.

"You are bleeding," Japan noted, glancing at the other's leg. "Even I could hardly call that 'fine'. Here, let me see." He knelt, pulling the ripped fabric aside to reveal a relatively shallow, but long scrape running along Germany's calf. This is quite new - Japan thought. When did he procure this injury? He spotted a few splinters in the wound, probably from whatever object did this, and carefully extracted them. Germany blanched from the pain, which was understandable as some splinters were in quite deep.

"Germany-san, when did this happen?" Japan asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

Germany hesitated, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he answered, "When I went to grab Italy."

To this, Japan merely sighed. "You leapt before you looked," he stated, standing up. "Be still," he ordered sternly as he went to search their meager supplies for antibiotics, bandages, and painkillers. There were none, although the Asian could have sworn that there had been a First Aid Kit among the cooking supplies the night before. "Germany-san," he asked after a moment, "did you move the First Aid Kit? I cannot find it."

"No," a puzzled German replied. "It should be there. Did you check the other packs? It could be you're just looking in the wrong one."

"I will check," Japan replied doubtfully. He rummaged through the other packs, and even checked the boxes to see if they had misplaced it. " . . . How strange. It does not seem to be here," he concluded after a moment, giving up and heading back to Germany. He shrugged off his uniform jacket, and, drawing his dagger, began cutting strips from the fabric to be used as bandages. However, after a moment he paused in his rhythmic slashes and looked at Germany. "It cannot be a simple coincidence," he said out loud.

"Coincidence?" Germany asked distractedly, examining his wound.

"The ingredients for the pasta and the First Aid Kit would not disappear so suddenly, and at the same time," Japan muttered with a frown.

"But last time we checked there wasn't anyone on this island besides us!" Germany exclaimed heatedly, and then added, almost as an afterthought, "And that was yesterday."

"I know it seems unlikely, but that would be the only explanation," Japan replied calmly. "After all, we would need to go into the forest for more supplies, or to search for healing herbs to replace medicine, which would logically mean that the person is trying to drive us into the forest." Echoing his thoughts, a small flock of birds took off not far away, cawing loudly, startled into flight by some unknown creature.

Cursing, Germany pulled out his gun and tried to stand. He nearly toppled over, all color leaving his face as he was forced to put weight on his leg. Japan steadied the larger man before expertly maneuvering him back onto his seat. Ducking down, he wrapped the make-shift bandage around Germany's leg with practiced motions, and tied it off in order to stem the bleeding. Quickly grabbing his katana, he glanced over his shoulder before heading into the forest.

"Stay here, and take care of Italy-kun," he ordered, ignoring the German's protests, and vanished from sight. Germany let out a string of curses at everything that was going wrong. He couldn't move, Italy was rendered even more useless than usual, and now they were separated from Japan. Perhaps the Asian had some kind of plan which he did not know about, but searching for an unknown enemy by himself was very rash, not like the nation at all.

Finally, Germany calmed himself down and took up position as guard like Japan had wanted. If he could do no else, he would be helpful in any respect possible. He wouldn't let his allies down.

Meanwhile, in the Forest:

Stealthily, Japan darted through the thick green undergrowth. For once, he felt glad for his tiny size, as it allowed him to move around such tight places so easily. He would have been lying if he said he was only a little nervous to face the enemy alone, but Germany and Italy could not fight. It was left up to him to draw the enemy off so their weakness would not be discovered and used against them. The rustle, which signaled the position of the enemy, grew louder as he headed further into the forest and closer to the source. Japan slowed, considering the possibilities. He could, obviously, find a vantage point and try to spot the enemy before it spotted him. However, due to the scarcity of vegetation above the tree-line, that plan would risk exposure, something any warrior would only face if he had no other choice. The next option would be to approach from the ground and spy, which, although useful overall in gathering information and provided a lower risk of exposure, had a much higher chance that he would be captured - also unacceptable. That would leave scare tactics; try to frighten the enemy away before he realizes you are there. This was quite underhanded, but it just might work.

Getting to work, Japan quickly scouted out good places to set natural traps, traps which would make it seem like the island was working against his enemy, rather than another person. This would work particularly well if the opponent was superstitious, but such a convenience was not always available, so he would have to make do with what he had. Noise traps were also placed at regular intervals, to mark enemy approach as well as indicate where the other traps were, so that he would not be caught in his own trick. These were fairly subtle, but, if the intruder scared easily, then it would be well worth it.

All he could hope for was that the single enemy was not actually a group of five Allies. Well, that and it was not one Ally in particular. –Russia-san – Japan thought, shuddering slightly, pausing in his work as memories surfaced. – After Yao-nii, no, China-san had told him of Russia-san's stalking habits, he realized that a similar pattern had been taken up with him recently. It was bad enough trying to convince his boss that unifying his country with Russia-san's was a bad idea, but having the creeping suspicion that Russia-san was watching him sleep . . . that was a bit too much – Japan shook his head, quaking slightly at the flood of recollections. – After he discovered that Russia-san's boss had been having talks with his boss about marrying them, he jumped at the first chance to ally himself to Germany-san and Italy-kun and join the war. After all, the emperor could not marry him off to an enemy during wartime. At least – Japan thought – he did not think his boss could.

Still deep in thought, he continued walking, half-blindly, through the forest, until one rather scary thought occurred to him. What if the person he now sought really _was_ Russia-san? Panic bubbled in his stomach. The idea that Russia was the one stalking around this island _looking for him_ was more than just a bit worrying, particularly because the person had obviously found their camp. With his allies back at the beach, he was all by himself. Alone . . . With Russia-san. Kami-sama, this was bad.

Back on the beach:

Germany hobbled back to his seat, wincing in pain as he sat once again. Everything had been secured into a diminutive mountain, all the loose equipment packed, and Italy hidden behind it all. Despite his injury, the task had been fairly simple because of their dwindling supply pile. That did not equal to painless, however, and his face had turned white from exertion. Hopefully, Japan would come to his senses and return to camp instead of causing trouble. For all they knew, the enemy on the island didn't actually know they were there. All evidence pointed to the contrary, but that did not mean he couldn't be optimistic. – Optimistic? – Germany wondered. Great, next thing you know he'll be hallucinating from infection. That was the trouble with these tropical islands, they are absolutely festering with disease, crawling with insects, and humid to the point it was unbearable. Maybe Japan would find some sort of antibiotic for his wound.

Suddenly, there was a resounding crash nearby. The brush rustled, quaking violently as something, or someone, tried to push his way through onto the beach. – Did someone get around Japan? – Germany wondered, refusing to entertain the notion that Japan had been captured, or worse, as he grabbed his gun, aiming it at the epicenter of the shaking.

"Who's there?" he demanded sharply.

In the forest once again:

Japan debated whether to turn back to camp or continue his search in the forest. He would have felt much safer back at camp with his allies, but turning back would mean admitting defeat. That would be a hard pill to swallow, admitting defeat out of fear. And not even the understandable fear of the unknown, but the fear of Russia of all things! It was decided then. He would not do anything further about the unknown enemy, but instead just find out who was on the island besides them. Then he would, at the very least, have some useful information for future reference. As soon as he saw who the intruder was, he could head back with a field report.

Determination filling him once again, Japan glanced around his surroundings, faintly noting that he had been spacing out for quite a while. The trees looked unfamiliar from when he had begun thinking, so he must have been walking as he thought, an inveterate practice which he still needed to get rid of. It was almost as bad as pacing, a habit which he had only quit recently. Yao, no, China had often scolded him for wandering off whenever he needed to think because he would turn up in the strangest places, even on the opposite side of town, spacing out for hours. Lost in a new tangent, he did not notice as the rustle of leaves, which gave away the location of his enemy, crept closer. Before he could investigate his surroundings further, the enemy sprung, and he stiffened in shock and fear as a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his chest and pulled him into a hug.

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**Ah, I love cliffhangers~**

**I should have Chapter 2 up soon, so in the meantime, please review! **

**Thank you!**


	2. An Odd Day

**Hello again, everyone! I guess being exhausted is the equivalent of motivation for me, because I'm already posting the second chapter. Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed and followed, it's greatly appreciated! **

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot to this story, not the concept of Hetalia nor its characters. **

**Warning: Contains swearing, mild violence, and bromance (if you can call it that XD) **

**Now, without further ado, please enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

On the beach:

Germany steadied his pistol, finger ready to cock the gun at any moment. "Show yourself," he ordered menacingly. The bush trembled even more violently before, finally, acquiescing and dumping its attacker on the beach in a graceless heap. The person stood, brushing himself off with muttered curses, before turning to the surprised German.

"Why the hell are you pointing a gun at me you damn potato-bastard?"

In the forest:

Japan struggled to break free from the embrace, trying to attack the stalker before he could do anything more, only to stop as the person hugging him started talking happily.

"Japan, amigo, I'm so glad I found you! I was worried when you wandered out of sight, so I sent Lovi ahead and followed you. You really shouldn't be alone in the forest like this, what if you got hurt?" the person babbled ecstatically, barely pausing for breath.

"Spain-san?" Japan gasped, struggling to breath around the nation's bone-crushing hug. He squirmed, attempting to free himself. "Would you mind letting me go?" he managed to ask after a moment, breaking through the oblivious man's reverie.

"Oh, claro que sí!" Spain exclaimed, loosening his grip, dropping his arms to his sides, and grinning at Japan.

The latter heaved a sigh of relief, and not just because he could breathe again. If the Spaniard was there, it meant that the person they had heard in the forest was not Russia at all. He had been worried for nothing, it seemed.

"Just as a question, Spain-san, why are you here on this island? It is not that I am not glad you are here, but you have no part in the war as of now. Why do you involve yourself in our troubles?" Japan asked simply.

"Simplamente, amigo, because Roma~ was worried when Italy went missing. He is overprotective of his hermano, so we set out to find you guys."

Suddenly, Japan started, realizing something else. "Eto, Spain-san, how did you find me? I do not wish to sound bold, but I find it highly unlikely that you have been following me all this way," he blurted.

"Que? Ah, a while ago, I thought I saw someone off behind the arbolas, the trees. And when I got a closer look, I realized that it was you, amigo. You seemed a bit zoned out, so I decided not to interrupt you." He shook his head ruefully, "I tried to get Roma~ to come here with me, but he decided to go to the beach instead and find his hermano. He seemed to think the forest was attacking him, for some strange reason. He has such a wild imagination," Spain added fondly with a laugh. "When I turned back to where you were, you'd gone. I've been searching for you for almost fifteen minutes!"

Japan chuckled as well, a bit awkwardly. "Well, if Romano-san is here, he would not want us to keep him waiting. We should probably head back, and, since you are here, I can look for some plants that can be used as antibiotics."

"Por que?" Spain asked, worried, "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, nothing of the sort," Japan reassured him. "Germany-san got a cut on his leg. It is superficial, but that does not mean it will not get infected without proper treatment."

"I see. But why are you looking for plants, surely medicine would work just as well."

"Yes, but we cannot find our First Aid Kit," Japan confessed.

"Is that so? Then use some of mine," Spain offered simply.

"You have antibiotics on you?" the Asian asked, incredulous.

"Never leave the house without them," came the proud reply. "After all," the nation babbled on, "what if Roma~ got hurt while we were out? He would be helpless, and who can he count on if not on me? I have to be prepared at all times!" The Spaniard continued chattering as they headed back to the beach camp, re-accounting everything from Romano's favorite pasta dish, to the time when Romano called him Jefe (boss), to what Romano had eaten for breakfast. Japan navigated their way around the remaining traps that Romano and Spain had not blundered through, and quickly retraced his path back to the beach.

They were met with an interesting spectacle. Romano was throwing potatoes at Germany, cursing the latter until he was red in the face. Germany, already splattered with tomato juice from Romano's earlier assault, had his hands held up in surrender, gun abandoned. Spain, oblivious to the mood, ran up to hug Romano as a greeting, and was consequently pelted with potatoes.

"Ow, Roma~! Why would you do that?" Spain asked, assaulting Romano with his puppy eyes and trying to hug him once more.

"Don't touch me, tomato-bastard!" Romano yelled, throwing more potatoes.

Raising his eyebrows, Japan walked over to the angry Italian. "If I may ask, why are you throwing our potatoes, Romano-san? Normally, I would not be all that upset because we will not be running out anytime soon, but they are our last reserve of food at the moment. One can never be too careful." He looked at Romano patiently, expecting an answer.

"I'm throwing them because the potato-bastard lost my fratello!" Romano snapped, glaring at Germany. However, he let his latest reload of ammunition fall back into the box.

"Lost Italy-kun?" Japan looked around in confusion, realizing that the Italian nation was not in sight. "Where is he, Germany-san?"

Nursing his injuries, Germany motioned behind the pile of supplies that he had been driven from by Romano. Relieved, Japan walked around and retrieved the nation, hoisting Italy over his shoulder. He set the Italian down gently before turning to the others. Romano's eyes narrowed dangerously as he laid eyes upon his unconscious brother.

"Why the hell is my brother unconscious, potato-bastard?" he hissed at Germany, pulling a tomato out of nowhere and holding it threateningly above his head.

"Italy-kun is unconscious, Romano-san, because we are out of pasta," Japan stated simply, reaching out to catch the tomato as it fell from the Italian's hand while Romano stared at him in shock.

"Out . . . of pasta?"

"I am afraid so."

Romano looked faint, glancing around the camp on the verge of a panic-attack. Sensing the danger, Japan handed the tomato back to him. The Italian took it, calming down slightly as he ate. Spain did a happy dance behind them when he saw his Roma~ eating a tomato (**Yes, because Romano definitely hasn't been eating tomatoes every day, Spain**).

"Now that that is out of the way," Japan began calmly, ready to get to work on fixing everything, "we need to properly treat Germany-san's leg, dismantle that supply mountain, find a way to revive Italy-kun, and eat something, because Germany-san and I have yet to eat today."

"All at once?" Romano asked disbelievingly.

"In steps, Romano-san, in steps," the Asian replied, a smile tingeing his lips. The sight was so rare that Romano just nodded mutely and set to work on shifting the mountain without audible complaint. Japan turned to Germany, "Now sit so I can fix your leg." The nation hobbled over to his bench (he had built them a few days earlier, carving the seats out of tree trunks), collapsing onto it with a groan. They all looked at the blood-soaked bandage warily for a moment before Japan set to work unwrapping the fabric. Spain handed him the First Aid Kit, so he started administering the antibiotics and then re-wrapped Germany's leg with a fresh bandage. He turned to Spain, who had immediately gone to help Romano, and caught his attention.

"Spain-san, do you have any painkillers?"

"No, don't waste them on me," Germany butted in out of stubbornness.

Japan let out a small sigh of exasperation at the other's intransigence (not that he should be talking). "Do you want to be able to walk or not?" he demanded, his voice dangerously soft. He would not accept no for an answer.

Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, the German reluctantly accepted the medicine from Spain. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he was glad that he did as the pain became bearable and his crippling hobble turned into a slight limp. They all finished breaking apart the remaining pile of supplies and put each back in its respective place around camp.

Japan sent Romano a friendly glance, "Arigato, Romano-san. Thank you for helping."

Romano snorted with a, "Yeah, whatever," and rolled his eyes, but looked faintly pleased with himself.

Looking over at Italy, still lying unconscious on a blanket they had fished out, Japan sighed and sat down on his bench (there were three around the fire-pit). "Now then," he began, "how are we going to wake up Italy-kun? As Germany-san and I discussed earlier, he most likely will not wake up unless we procure pasta or something similar."

"Knowing my idiot fratello, he definitely won't wake up unless there's pasta," Romano muttered.

"So how are we going to find pasta to wake Italy-kun? There is none left in our stores, and-" Japan looked over at Romano and Spain "-you two do not seem to have any supplies besides a First Aid Kit and tomatoes."

Upon hearing this, Romano deflated slightly. He glanced at Spain out of the corner of his eye, who was staring back with an '_I told you so_' look on his face. Finally, the Italian snapped.

"Dammit, you were right, okay? We should have grabbed more supplies before leaving. You don't have rub it in, tomato-bastard! "

Spain stared back at him in innocent confusion. "What do you mean, Lovi? I'm not saying anything."

Romano opened his mouth to retort, or, more likely, to tell Spain off for calling him Lovi again, but Japan intervened before a meaningless squabble was started over virtually nothing.

"Whether you should have grabbed more supplies or not is irrelevant, Romano-san, because it is neither of your faults for forgetting some supplies which might have been useful. What we need to do now is prepare for the future with what we have; there is no need to look back on the past." Romano glanced at Japan gratefully, internally glad that the Japanese man wasn't blaming him like most would've. The nation continued, "What we need to figure out now is how to turn potatoes and a few stray vegetables into something resembling a pasta dish."

"Then Italy will wake up and we can discuss what to do from there," Germany finished, taking command. He had gotten the gist of Japan's plan: make a pasta dish so that Italy wakes up. Then, the impossibility of the task hit him. – Turn potatoes into pasta? – Germany wondered – Why not try to turn stone into bread; I'm sure we would have the same results. –

Romano cursed. "Turn potatoes grown by the potato-bastard into pasta? Even that French bastard couldn't do it."

Spain chuckled, "Actually, Roma~, he has! Francis taught me how to make paille years ago."

"Paille?" they all asked.

"Yes. Paille – Shoestring potatoes. It's kind of like fried pasta, if done right (**1**). All I need to know is if you have any kind of vegetable oil."

"We do, Spain-san." Japan interjected.

"Then let's get to work!" the Spaniard exclaimed, happy to be helpful.

The next hours passed in a blurry haze of fishing and gathering, trying to find side dishes to supplement the paille, which in itself was just a side dish and not very filling. The oil took forever to heat up, and the side dishes were so time consuming to prepare, that by the time the food was ready to eat the sun had begun to dip towards the horizon. The whole entire time, Italy had remained blissfully asleep, although he started twitching when the potatoes began frying. Just as Spain began fishing the cooked paille out of the oil, they head a sleepy voice.

"Ve~, Germany, can I have some too~?" Italy asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Everyone rejoiced, some more happily than others, and some only just barely showing that happiness. Spain, of course, had to run over and give Italy a giant hug before returning to his station and dividing up the food. Germany went to hand the first plate of food to Italy.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Romano complained loudly. "We've been working our butts off all day to get this food, but that idiota gets first serve even though he hasn't done anything! That has got to be the most biased-" his rant was cut off when Japan lightly placed his hand on the Italian's shoulder. The Japanese man handed a plate of food, this one with extra tomatoes, to the nation. Romano flushed, muttering an embarrassed thanks under his breath, which Japan only just caught, before pacing around the fire-pit, muttering under his breath.

They all settled down to eat on their respective seats, the two new-comers making room for themselves by sharing bench space with the other nations. However, they didn't do so very logically, and Japan found himself most unnervingly sandwiched between Romano and Spain. It had been surprising for the Japanese man when Romano, instead of sitting next to his fratello as was expected, asked to sit next to Japan, muttering excuses about how he was the only person on that wretched island that the Italian didn't find unbearably annoying. He tried to protest when the Spaniard joined them, but Spain, oblivious to the nation's discomfort, sat down on the already crowded bench and tried to talk to Romano, who quickly moved to the other side of Japan.

To be perfectly honest, Japan disliked sitting next to the Spaniard, although he would never say so out loud. At least Romano did not feel the need to poke his cheeks and ruffle his hair every few moments. It was quite difficult to eat in such conditions. – Although, – Japan reflected – this is probably why Romano-san moved in the first place. – Wondering how he could discreetly tell Spain to stop, he turned to Italy.

"How are you feeling Italy-kun?"

"Ve~, much better Japan! That was almost as good as pasta~!" Italy said contentedly. Suddenly, Italy cocked his head thoughtfully. "Ve~, Japan? Why do you add that weird name onto mine? Is it a nickname?"

Japan chuckled softly, "It is an honorific, Italy-kun. Although some of the more informal honorifics could be a bit like pet names," he added.

"Ve~, so then there are two honorifics, -san and -kun?"

"No, there are many more, Italy-kun. Those two are merely the ones which I use most."

"Ve~, then what are the others?"

So Japan explained, starting with –sama, the most formal, and finishing with –chan, the least formal; including all the family honorifics as well. Everyone listened attentively, interested in learning more about the odd eastern culture.

As soon as he finished, Italy beamed. "Ve~, Japan, can you call me Italy-chan then?"

Japan looked vaguely surprised, "Why, Italy-kun?"

"Ve~, we're friends aren't we?"

"Alright then, Italy . . .-chan (**2**)."

"Humph," Romano snorted, "that's ridiculously complicated. I don't see what all the fuss about these damn honorifics is. Just Romano is fine; keep all those stupid –sans and –kuns to yourself."

Japan smiled, "Alright, Romano . . ."

And then Germany _had _to interrupt their bonding moment. "What's wrong Spain?" he asked, eying the nation in concern. The others started, glancing over at Spain, realizing he had fallen silent during Japan's lecture and was now glancing at the forest, worried.

The Spaniard turned around, surprised that everyone's attentions were on him. "Well, amigos, the sun has almost set hasn't it? Aren't you worried that Russia isn't back yet?"

"WHAT?"

Germany spit the sip of water he just drank into the fire. The flames sputtered and died down for a moment, leaving everything eerily dark. When the light shone once again, Spain saw everyone staring at him, their eyes wide as saucers with disbelief.

"R-Russia-san? You mean he is here?" Japan squeaked, his voice shooting through two octaves and quivering like a leaf. He quickly clasped a hand on his mouth in embarrassment, but that did not retrieve what he had already said.

"What do you _mean_ isn't back yet?" Germany demanded.

"Well, this morning after Lovi-" Romano hit him "-I mean, Roma~ left to for the beach, I saw Russia walking away from your camp. I figured that he was off taking care of something, so I left him alone. I do think it's weird that you guys have allied with him, especially after all the anti-communism legislature (**3**), but I figure you had your reasons. . ." he trailed off uncomfortable under Germany's glare.

"He's their ENEMY, you idiota!" Romano yelled. "They're the Axis Powers, and he's part of the Allies! Why didn't you say anything, tomato-bastard?!"

Everyone's yelling was cut off as Japan stood abruptly, his face unnaturally pale in the firelight. He twisted around, taking everything in feverishly, his panic escalating. Germany rushed forward, nearly tripping in his haste, and grabbed the nation by his shoulders. Japan looked straight through him, unseeing.

"Japan," he said sternly, drawing his ally back into reality. The latter saw him, and Germany thought he had succeeded.

However, not fully back to his senses, Japan grabbed the German in a death-grip, and whispered, almost begging in his fear, "Germany-san, we must get away, before he comes for us. We could hang up in the canopy; find a new site for the camp, anything! I cannot let that man find me. It will be the end-"

"Japan!" Germany snapped, gently shaking his panic-stricken friend. Japan gasped, his reason surfacing, startled by the intensity of his panic-attack. Quickly, he released the German, bowing low in apology.

"What did you mean by that Japan?" Italy asked, disturbed by his ally's breakdown.

The others were staring at him in rather horrified curiosity, so the nation reluctantly explained that Russia was trying to marry him, and had been stalking him up until he had allied with Germany and Italy and joined the war. The Italy brothers exchanged terrified glances, looking at Japan in horror and sympathy. Germany had collapsed in his seat, disturbed by the revelation, and Spain was staring at the Japanese man with a serious frown settled upon his face.

Japan felt himself be pulled into a warm, comforting hug by Spain. "Lo siento, amigo. If only I had known," the Spaniard shook his head.

"That settles it," Germany said with finality, voicing his thoughts aloud. "We will have four hour shifts for the watch tonight, two people per watch. That way, even if the others are sleeping, there will be someone to watch your back. Any questions?" he asked the others.

Each glanced around, surprised at the quick decision, but all agreed. Romano, who would normally never be caught dead agreeing with the German, even volunteered to take first watch. Spain released Japan to hug Romano, praising him for his generosity while the Italian tried to pull away, cursing. Italy went over to Japan, hugging him in Spain's stead.

"Italy . . .-chan?"

"Don't worry, Japan. We won't let Russia hurt you." Italy pulled away with a smile, "You are our friend, after all."

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**Aw, Italy is so adorable when he drops his Ve~ing and gets serious. I hope everyone liked reading that chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**Footnotes:**

**1 - Both paille and fried pasta do exist, but I'm calling creative license here. I have absolutely no idea if they are actually similar or not. **

**2 - ****Bonding Moments~! ****A few days ago, I called my friend (who plays Italy) Italy-kun, and she looked at me and said, "Don't you think Italy is more of a -chan?" Which was so adorable to me that I had to include it. **

**3 - Germany passed laws against Communism before/during WWII, which I think Japan and Italy signed in on during their alliance. Apparently, Spain has time to pay attention to the laws of other countries, but not who they're allied to (-.-) . . . I still love him though.**

**Anyway, thank you for reading everyone. Please review! **


	3. What Makes Us Strong

**EXTREMELY IMPORTANT MESSAGE, PLEASE READ!**

**Okay, this isn't an Author's Note, it's an explanation (AKA Background Knowledge) of the world this fic takes place in (and I'm only going to have this message once, possibly twice if I feel a refresher is needed, so please pay attention).**

**Basically, there are two Worlds, the Hetalia World and the Human World, and multiple connections between each. The gateways are laid out so that major landmarks in the major cities/towns of a country will have a corresponding 'decoration' or representation in the backyard on the nation's property. For instance, the shrine in Japan's backyard is connected to a secluded shrine just off the beaten path in Kyoto. Since the nations are just immortal humans who personify specific countries, humans can also pass through these gates (albeit with difficulty) into the Hetalian World, hence the reason why humans may sometimes find their way over. Furthermore, the house of a country corresponds to a house just like it, either in, or on the outskirts of, the capitol. For example, Japan's house in his world corresponds to his house in Tokyo, and all the nations including him can use that connection to travel to the capital and back to Japan's house.**

**Now for the abilities of the nations themselves . . . All the nations are fairly normal humans who have the ability to act on their own accord, and do not always agree, but have to play along with, the actions of their people. In other words, their actions dictate the actions of the Human government, and the citizens' actions dictate theirs. Also, although they act as humans the majority of the time, each Hetalian has the ability to 'connect' to their country and check up on their people. They become the land, and the power of their citizens runs through their veins. This is when they have the power of a country, which the older nations used to use all the time when they were considered gods by humans. However, that connection encompasses all the people, so if a particular section of the country is suffering then the Hetalian will feel it, so because of overpopulation (among other things) a lot of time went into avoiding the Human World and its problems (for some nations). *I mention this because this is precisely what Japan and Romano are talking about.***

**One last note, this time on names, particularly because even if nobody pointed it out, I'm sure some of you noticed the sudden slips into human names (Yao, Lovi). The general idea is that all the nations have human names, but these are VERY personal and only nations that are very close, either as family, friends, or something more, will use them. Otherwise, they refer to one another by country names, like usual. **

**Thank you for reading all of that! (I feel very sorry for the people that didn't because the first half of the chapter will make no sense whatsoever. . .)**

**Warning: Contains Romano, a bit more Bromance (again, if you can call it that XD), and OOC-ness.**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

Chapter 3

The day drew to a close in a radiant sunburst, and Japan felt it was even more beautiful because he could share it with his friends.

"Alright then," Germany said, his voice business-like, "who is going to take the first watch with Romano?"

"I will," Japan volunteered, interrupting Spain's long, drawn-out cry of 'Me~'. He looked at the latter apologetically. "Gomen, Spain-san, but I doubt I will get to sleep easily." – Not when that psychotic person is roaming around the island – he added silently.

Eventually, everyone agreed to this arrangement, and soon they set about preparing for bed. While they were fishing blankets out of the packs, Germany walked over to Japan and murmured, "Are you sure?"

Japan glanced around, "Yes, Germany-san. Like I said earlier, I doubt I will get to sleep for a while. I might as well use my restlessness to protect everyone."

"But are you sure you want to take your shift with Romano? He's Italian after all, so I don't know how helpful he will be if something _does_ happen," the German stated bluntly.

Japan remained silent for a few moments, contemplating his answer as he watched everyone settle down. Finally, he sighed, "I think you underestimate Romano, Germany-san. I believe he is much more trustworthy than you seem to assume."

Germany just shrugged, although worry still shone in his eyes as he went to set up his own bed. He settled down next to Italy and Spain, saying, "Wake Spain and I up in about four hours. We'll take the next watch, right Spain?" To which Spain quietly agreed.

"Hai, Germany-san."

The Spaniard nodded sleepily, "Buenos noches, amigos."

"Ve~, goodnight everybody," Italy murmured, half asleep.

"Oyasumi," Japan whispered before going over to where Romano sat, joining him. His gaze meandered along the forest line and down the beach, searching for unexpected guests. Already, the others' breath steadied as they fell into a deep sleep, trusting Japan and Romano to protect them. Finding nothing but empty space, Japan slid off the bench into a meditation pose.

Romano looked at him curiously and muttered, "What are you doing?"

"Meditating," he whispered back, "since I did not have a chance to this morning."

"Why?"

"I need to connect somehow, Romano."

"Oh," Romano said softly. "But can't you just do that normally? You know, without meditating?"

"I enjoy this method much more. It is traditional," the smaller nation answered calmly, partially entering a trance, but keeping his mind in the present in case Romano spoke again. He grounded himself, feeling the rush of power as he became one with his namesake and the energy of his people rushed through his veins. – Nothing seems to be amiss – he mused.

"So . . . how often do you do this?" Romano asked hesitantly, not wanting to distract the small man, yet unable to abate his curiosity. The Asian had been quiet for some time, and he continued to maintain that silence. Romano leaned forward, cautiously waving his hand in front of Japan to see if he was awake.

Suddenly, Japan answered, his eyes still closed, "Every day," and the Italian jerked his hand back, flushing in embarrassment. They sat in silence for a few moments, and then the Japanese man asked, "What about you, Romano?"

"Oh, you know, every once in a while. I'm not nearly as consistent as you."

To that, Japan smiled, "I rather doubt that anyone opens themself to the other world as often as I do. It has become second nature to do it while meditating, so I may connect multiple times a day. I find it calms me, knowing what is going on with my people."

"So, even if you're, you know, marooned on this island and all, you still know what's going on?"

"Hai, Romano," Japan said, adjusting his position so that he would be facing the Italian, looking serenely into the latter's eyes. Although he had not been meditating long enough to go into a truly deep trance and sense individual people, he had still calmed down considerably compared to earlier.

"So I suppose you know that the hamburger-bastard has entered the war, then." – And why – Romano added silently.

"Hai," Japan whispered back, slightly disturbed at what had transpired during his time on the island. He continued hesitantly, "I did not expect my people to embrace the war as quickly as they did. I thought for sure that there would have been more resistance, seeing as I entered for personal reasons, and I remain for personal reasons.

"Does the potato-bastard know that the hamburger-bastard is in the war now? I doubt that he has connected in a long time, especially because of what his boss is doing," Romano sighed, now he was the one disturbed. "I'm sure Veneziano has stopped as well; he never could stomach violence. Not that I'm any better," he added under his breath humorlessly.

"I doubt any of us can, Romano."

"Can't you?"

"What do you mean?"

The Italian answered a bit hesitantly, "Well, since you're so connected with the other world, I'm sure you could stomach a little violence," he snorted, more nervously than anything. "I mean, you're involving yourself every day, so, as old as you are . . . How old are you?"

"Old enough."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Anyway, involving yourself so often obviously means you'll be able to sense everyday internal conflicts, like, well, serial killers-"

"That is hardly an everyday occurrence, Romano," Japan pointed out smoothly.

"-which is like a miniature war if the death count goes high enough," he continued as though the other hadn't interrupted him.

"Fine then," the Japanese man sighed. "Let us say that I can stomach violence and suffering. Every country has to, to a certain degree. No one is perfect, even if they refuse to admit as much. What it is that I do not understand is why are you bringing this up?"

"Well, obviously you're stronger because you can withstand something like that."

"Just because I can withstand the pain of my people does not mean I am strong."

"What about Russia? That vodka-bastard is incredibly strong and he doesn't seem to mind that his people are starving to death."

"I believe that Russia-san has stopped opening himself to the other world," Japan whispered sadly.

Romano nearly fell out of his seat in shock. "B-but, that's impossible!" he stammered. "That vodka-bastard will . . . he'll go insane. . ." His eyes widened at what he had said. The other nodded in confirmation and his face twisted in horror.

"When?"

"After his revolution, perhaps even after Bloody Sunday."

"B-but that was _ages ago_!"

"Longer than any nation can normally withstand, at least," Japan agreed, his face carefully schooled blank. He sighed again. – I have been doing that far too often – he mused. "Listen Romano. Opening oneself to the other world more often than others does not make a person stronger; just as self-preservation does not make a person weaker. It is merely a different way of handling the pressure of being a nation as well as human."

"Self-preservation?" Romano snorted. "So says the person that ran into the forest to protect others from an unknown enemy. I mean seriously, that has to be the most idiotic thing to do on the face of the goddamn planet in terms of 'self-preservation'."

"I was taught to ignore the instinct of self-preservation years ago, serving under many lords as a wandering samurai of my country."

"You were in the other world during your isolation from everyone?" Romano interrupted out of surprise.

"Hai. So, you see, I am not talking about myself when I mention self-preservation."

The Italian's eyes narrowed, "What are you getting at, Japan? Spit it out."

"Precisely what I said earlier: self-preservation does not make you weak."

"Now wait just a minute-"

"You and your brother are strong, Romano," Japan inserted, cutting the angry nation off.

"No we aren't!" Romano spluttered without thinking, his contradictory nature taking over. "We're fucking cowards is what we are; always hiding behind other countries. Get that in your head, we're _cowards_ Japan. That isn't the so called 'self-preservation' you keep babbling on about; we're weak. Always running, never fighting-" he cut himself off, horrified that he had said that out loud. –Goddammit! – he thought angrily as the other looked at him, bemused. –He used reverse psychology to get me to say that, I know he did. –

The Asian continued to stare steadily into the Italian's eyes, his gaze never wavering as Romano cursed his bad luck and bit his lip, wishing he could take what he just blurted back.

"So what if you are?"

"Huh?"

"So what if you're cowards? Everyone is a coward at heart. Strength is working past that cowardice and finding the courage to stand for yourself. You do that, and I know your brother does."

"My fratello goes around waving a white flag. That's not strength."

"It is more strength than running away. Think about it. If Italy-chan was a true coward, he would have run long ago. Instead he is here, fighting with us in his own way. I doubt I would ever eat so well if I did not have your brother constantly talking about food and making me hungry. That is one of the biggest problems surrounding war: malnutrition. With your brother, we do not need to worry about that because he refuses to go without meals."

"You take sugar-coating to an extreme, don't you? I know that all that idiota does day in and out is complain about food this, food that; by the end of the day you want to wring his neck to get him to shut up. I know you do; everyone does."

"That does not change the fact that both Germany-san and I now eat two or three meals a day because Italy-chan is constantly cooking for us. For all Germany-san grumbles about what a waste of food it is, I believe he would be upset if he missed meals as well."

"Oh? So what argument do you have for me and my 'courage'?" Romano snorted disbelievingly, still considering what Japan said about his brother. The Asian fell silent for a moment, thinking. The Italian raised his eyebrows, a bit hurt, "None, right? Thought so."

"Well, the fact that you are here at all is proof that you are strong. Very few people would go to an uninhabited island in the middle of a war to try and help their brother, yet you did."

"Hey! I did _not_ come here to help that idiota! I came here because he always screws everything up and needs his big brother here to keep him in line. If I wasn't here, he would be messing around instead of getting anything done, like_ usual_. The fact that all he's done since you guys landed here is cook pasta shows just how much time he's wasted! Without me, he would be absolutely useless. At least he'll do something helpful now."

"Yes, I expect so," Japan murmured, humoring his friend.

Romano continued to rant, listing off just about every grievance he had ever undergone until, suddenly, he fell silent. Japan, having tuned the Italian out a few hours ago and gone back to meditating, opened his eyes warily to look at the other nation. He was asleep. The Asian cracked a small smile, realizing he was seeing Romano without a frown for quite possibly the first time. – Frowning all the time does not suit him – Japan thought.

He glanced overhead, looking for the moon. It was already dipping towards the other horizon. – Oh, my, – he thought in surprise, - I was supposed to wake Germany-san and Spain-san a while ago. Better late than never, I suppose. – Quickly, he headed over and gently shook Germany's shoulder.

"Germany-san, it is time to wake up," he whispered.

The German's eyes opened calmly and he looked at Japan for a moment before jerking his head towards Romano. "So he finally fell asleep, did he? About time," he muttered under his breath.

"You were awake?"

"Long enough to hear him ranting. Did you hit him with tranquilizers or something? He drifted off rather quickly, even for an Italian."

Japan's eyes narrowed, "No." He glanced around suspiciously, noticing movement. He was just about to pounce on the source when he realized that it was Spain.

"Spain-san, what are you doing up?"

"Oh, well, you see . . . I heard my Roma~ talking, and, since it was already our shift, I decided to let him get his sleep." He looked his friends with an easy smile on his face. "My poor Roma~ always has so much trouble getting to sleep," he explained with a sigh.

"Okay then," Germany muttered.

Japan, now so tired that he was honestly beyond caring that his friend had just been knocked out by the Spaniard, bid them good night, and settled down on a blanket. It had just occurred to him that he had been up almost twenty hours, running around with little to no food. – See, Romano? – he thought blearily, almost asleep. – This is why we need your brother. Without him, we would be falling over from exhaustion. – Then he fell into a spiraling dream involving an odd blue-haired girl singing about a cat seemingly stuck in a pastry; probably created by America. There was no way he, Japan, could come up with something so random and meaningless.

…

The morning passed smoothly, albeit a few grumbles from Italy when he saw that breakfast offered nothing similar to pasta, and some rather colorful language from Romano once he finally woke up. Even though he was on the receiving end of both Italian's complaints, Spain continued to smile brilliantly at the both of them as though nothing was out of place. Germany and Japan silently agreed that Spain must be some sort of masochist as they watched him be beaten into the ground by one particular Southern Italian we all know and love, only to come back for another round, and after that agreement pretended nothing out of the ordinary was happening. They didn't really want to know more about the Spaniard, especially after seeing how he acted. Some things are better left unsaid.

Eventually, they could no longer avoid the problem. What were they going to do about Russia? After cleaning up the camp, they sat down to try and figure out a plan.

"Ve~, we could wave our white flags and beg for him to give us the pasta back," Italy suggested, perfectly serious.

"Shut it, you idiota," Romano hissed.

"Ve~, but Romano~"

"Both of you be quiet!" Germany snapped, ignoring Romano's scorching glare. "What do you think Japan?"

"Well, we could set up some traps and find a way to force him from the island," Japan mused. "The problem with that is the traps would have to be in the forest, it is the only place to hide them."

"That sounds like the best thing to do," Germany nodded. He twisted, looking at all of them. "So . . . who is going to set up the traps?"

"I will," Japan volunteered, adding, "as long as I do not have to go alone. It would probably be best that I did not, anyway. You may never see me again," he joked, although between his deadpan and monotone he sounded just as serious as usual.

"I'll go with you, amigo!" Spain declared, bouncing over to the Asian with a grin.

"Wouldn't it be better that I went with him?" Germany asked.

"But amigo, you can still barely walk. It isn't good to aggravate wounds like that," Spain reasoned.

"You mean you're going to leave Romano behind?" Germany countered.

"I do NOT need protection from that tomato-bastard, you potato muncher! If you _ever_ say something like that again I'll castrate you!" Romano yelled.

"Ve~, but fratello, Germany never said anything about brother Spain protecting you."

Romano wheeled on his brother and hissed, "Shut the hell up idiota."

Spain just grinned at that. He slung an arm around Japan's shoulders, the latter shifting uncomfortably. "See, Germany? Roma~ can take care of himself for a few hours."

The German tried to protest, but Japan sighed and cut him off. "It is the best arrangement possible, Germany-san. We need someone to look after the camp, and as you still have trouble walking it would be best that you take that job. Spain-san and I will be fine in the forest. Just watch out for Russia and you'll be fine."

Germany hesitantly nodded in agreement, so the two headed into the forest, Japan ducking out from Spain's grip as they left. Romano didn't even try to disguise his mutter of, "Good riddance," as they disappeared, but the Spaniard's façade remained happily oblivious.

"Please be careful," Germany whispered as they disappeared.

In the Forest:

Remembering where he had set a lot of the traps the day before, Japan guided Spain around them to a small clearing where they could strategize. He was a bit disgusted with himself, letting the Spaniard convince Germany that they should work together, not that he had helped the situation by intervening for Spain's sake. Why had he done that? Because it was the most logical plan to have him go with Spain while Germany stays back? Perhaps, but that did not mean he had to like the arrangement. He found the other nation dreadfully annoying, not that he would say so to anyone but himself. Thank goodness few people could actually see through his deadpanned mask. Anyone with that ability was his enemy in the war; whether that was a good or bad thing was still up for debate.

He slid lithely into the small gap in the trees, Spain stumbling after him. Both fell silent, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed normal, so Japan turned and asked what the plan was.

"We're leaving traps amigo," Spain pointed out simply.

"Yes, Spain-san, we are, indeed, laying out traps to try and catch Russia-san," Japan said slowly, beyond annoyed at how dense the nation could be. "What I am asking is if you have any ideas for what kind of traps we should lay."

"Well, amigo, we could split up-"

"No," Japan interrupted.

"Que?"

"No we are not splitting up. That is the last thing I wish to do."

"But-"

"_No._"

Spain's brow furrowed, "But we need something to lure Russia in, do we not?"

The Asian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, "What do you mean, Spain-san?"

"A lure. Something to draw him to the trap. We don't want to be sitting around waiting for him to blunder into one, do we?"

Japan mulled this over. He sighed, "No, I suppose we do not want to wait so long. But what would we use as a lure?"

"Vodka, naturally."

The Japanese man snorted, unable to control himself. "Yes, _naturally_, because, after all, everyone knows that vodka grows on trees," he muttered sarcastically, his patience at an end.

"Not quite amigo," Spain smiled, a bit patronizingly, and crouched close to the ground, absently picking up a stick to doodle with. "_This_ is the plan." Japan crouched as well, listening.

…

After a surprisingly in-depth explanation, Japan could not help but grudgingly agree that it was a good idea. Spain would get the lures they needed to bait the traps, within an hour or so at that. There was only one part that he still could not agree to.

"Do we really have to split up Spain-san?"

"Sí. We would waste too much time otherwise, amigo."

"It is only an hour, Spain-san. Surely that is not so much time it would become wasteful."

"But you could set up so many extra traps in the time it would take me just to walk there and back, Japan! Think about it, amigo, why have only some baited traps when we can have a few baited traps and dozens of hidden ones? Russia may not fall for a lure, but he could very easily be caught in a hidden one protecting the lure. While I'm getting the vodka, all you have to do is start marking places all along the shoreline to set the traps up and then set hidden traps around them. It's reassurance for the plan, amigo."

Spain spoke with finality, as if it was decided. Unfortunately for Japan, he could find no fault in the nation's logic. They _could_ set up better defenses with an extra hour, and it was _true_ that only one person needed to obtain the lures. The only thing Spain didn't seem to be considering was what would happen to Japan if Russia found him unprepared to fight. One mishap on the Asian's part and he was done for.

Yet Japan did not want to argue such a point, for fear of seeming weak. It was one thing to admit that he was worried about Russia to his allies/friends, but quite another to say so to a potential enemy. And no matter how Japan spun it, Spain was a potential enemy. He was not now, but that was just because he had chosen to remain neutral at the beginning of the war in order to support Romano (who was bound to help the Axis because he was part of Italy). However, there was no reason that the Spaniard could not join a side, Russia's side, and then reveal his, Japan's, weaknesses. Perhaps his judgment was clouded by dislike, but that did not mean it was entirely faulty. The Spaniard had been acting rather odd recently, at least for Spain.

Japan sighed once again, his mind made up, "Fine then. Let us split up."

"Bueno! I'll see you in an hour, amigo," Spain exclaimed, getting up.

"Hai, I will see you in an hour Spain-san," Japan replied. The other nation headed off into the trees, startling some birds into flight as he hastened away.

– This is going to be a _long_ hour – Japan thought, standing as well.

* * *

**A/N (The actual one XD)**

**Oh my goodness, I'm so SORRY that I took forever to update! Let's just say I had to write an essay and study for two unit exams. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter! **

**Here, I'm going to just list off a bunch of things that I should probably apologize for:  
-Spain being all OOC. I did NOT mean for that to happen, it just turned out that way . . .  
-Nothing really happening in this chapter. (All the action will be in the next one! Be glad I didn't succumb to my love of cliffhangers, because I had an awful one planned for this chapter. . .) I felt like this chapter wasn't really going anywhere (because it wasn't), but it's kinda necessary for later on.  
-My odd POV that tries, but fails miserably, at being in Japan's view (Because he's the main character of this fic and my soul-mate. **** I AM Japan, i****n more ways than one. It's kind of scary, really . . .)**

**And yes, before you ask, Japan's dream is a reference to Nyan cat and Hatsune Miku. (No, I will not apologize!)**

**And, since I didn't earlier . . . Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Seriously, I doubt I would be messing around on Fanfiction if I did . . .**

**Finally, thanks to everyone that reviewed, favorited, and followed this! It makes me happy. (So please Review! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, knowing people actually like this odd little piece of my heart.)**

**Until next time~**


	4. How Regrettable

**A/N**

**Hello again! I'm so sorry for being this inconsistent with my update days . . . sometimes it's one week, sometimes two. Hopefully the next chapter will only take one, since I'm on a week-long break, but I can never be sure. **

**As promised, this chapter picks up and pretty much introduces my plot for the rest of the story, so be prepared for some major action! (Actually, don't. I'm absolutely _terrible_ at writing action at this point in time. I will improve . . . eventually)**

**Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone that reviewed, followed, and favorited! You guys make my day! **

**Disclaimer: Last I checked, I didn't own Hetalia. Nor did I own any country-based character, for that matter, so, unless I fall most randomly into a pool of money the size of Rhode Island, nay, _Long_ Island tomorrow, I probably won't own anything other than the idea for this story in the near future. **

**As a small, yet VERY IMPORTANT side note: **

- thoughts are still outlined by dashes. -

'_these italicized quotes are the equivalent of flashbacks . . . you'll see what I mean.' _

- _These, while still thoughts, are actually of the inner voice in Japan's mind. He comes in at the end of the chapter and will be present throughout the_ story. -

**When you get to the flashback quotes, just imagine that they are the product of all the characters as a collective. No one person is reliving their memories, but rather everyone together. It'll make sense when you get there . . .**

**Warning: Contains Romano, fulfillment to the minor (I repeat, MINOR) violence promised at the beginning, and the inner workings of Japan's mind.**

**Please enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 4

The passage of time can be a very agonizing ordeal to withstand, as Japan soon found out. He had started marking out traps, placing all sorts of vine knots that would leave unsuspecting intruders dangling from a foot, just as planned. However, he found himself distracted often.

The slightest sound would draw a twitch, and, even though it was just the natural inhabitants of the island, that did not stop him from jumping out of his skin at anything louder than the scuffle of shifting debris on the forest floor as thousands of organisms moved about. In other words: everything. Every few seconds, another sound would go off nearby and he would find himself pausing in his work. The trap would lay temporarily forgotten as he strained his ears for a follow-up sound, proof that the creature was coming closer.

Nothing.

Japan found himself wishing that he wasn't alone. Even if it was with someone annoying like Spain, at least then he would have a reason to be steadfast and not run away. Being strong can be so much easier when there's someone there to be strong for. Not, of course, that he couldn't be strong for himself, but even then it was for the sake of his people and not for his own person.

A particularly loud crash sent him bolting for cover behind a tree, cowering for a moment before re-emerging, face red with shame. He could not quite grasp why he was so scared, especially when armed with a katana. A very, very sharp katana. His allies were not all that far away, either. Just because he was alone and Russia was stalking around the island, most likely looking for him, did not mean he should be quaking in his boots and hiding. The Asian continued to reassure himself, slowly returning to the more open area he had been standing in before.

Unable to shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen, Japan set to work on the traps once again. Only twenty minutes have passed since Spain left.

Meanwhile, Somewhere on the Island:

"You are sure he has left the beach, comrade?"

"Mhmm."

"Where is he now?"

"Walking through the forest along the beach. I don't know exactly where, but it's only been a few minutes since I last saw him, so he can't have gotten far."

"I thank you, then. I should probably go have a little chat with him, da?"

"Promise me you'll only talk?"

"Da, I promise."

A sigh. "Thank you."

Spain:

Walking to the other side of the island was rather pleasant, very quiet and scenic. He had gotten the vodka with ease, and was now heading back, enjoying the view. Romano might not have, but at moments like this Spain wasn't thinking about his Roma~. He was worried about Japan. Something didn't seem right, although, just like the Asian, he could not quite comprehend why it didn't.

Perhaps it was because of Russia. That was it! Spain was uneasy about leaving Japan alone with Russia, nothing more.

He remembered his friend's reaction when he had heard about the big nation the night before. Spain hadn't expected him to react that way. Worried, yes, but not scared-worried. Just . . . worried.

An uneasy feeling rose in the pit of his stomach. – Perhaps I should hurry – he thought, increasing his casual walk to a light jog. Before he knew it, his protective instincts had kicked in and he was running towards Japan's location, hoping the latter was alright, that nothing bad had happened.

Japan:

Time was still passing agonizingly slow, even for someone as patient as he. Why had he not forced Spain to let him come along? Anything would have been better than waiting for the Spaniard to show up, even putting up with his boundary-indifferent harassment for a whole hour. He had given up on setting traps a few minutes before, feeling he was no longer able to set them proper. Better to quit while he was ahead rather than mess up a few and alert Russia about the rest.

Japan found himself staring at a few plants that he had never seen before growing just a few feet away. He shuffled over quietly, examining the plants with caution. – I wonder if they have any medicinal properties – he thought, not sure if he could touch them yet. He ended up deciding it would be best to wait, especially because he could not know if they were poisonous until he had an allergic reaction of some sort. A loud squawk startled him out of his musings; a bird taking flight. He realized with horror that he had zoned out again.

Drawing his katana as a precaution, Japan tried to find a place that would give him a fair amount of protection for his back. He couldn't have whoever it was sneaking up behind him like Spain had the day before.

But, before he could find protection and pinpoint the enemy, two arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him into a hug. It seemed somewhat familiar, so Japan only stiffened for a moment before sighing in relief.

"Spain-san," he started, slightly annoyed, "I know you are happy to see me again, but would you please let me-"

Japan twisted in the other's arms, his voice dying off as his brown eyes met with brilliant violet ones.

A smile spread across Russia's face, "You will become one with me, da?" And, before the Japanese man could recover, he felt icy lips press against his.

On the Beach:

A loud cry rang through the trees, startling Germany and the Italy brothers. It wasn't like the other cries they hear periodically from the various animals. If fact, it sounded oddly . . . human.

Germany reacted first, rushing to grab his gun with muttered curses. Another cry rent the air, and nobody could misplace the origin now.

"Japan!" Italy cried, pulling out his white flag and running into the forest with Romano close behind. Germany ran after them, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg.

' _. . . I cannot let that man find me. . .'_

A third yell desperately rang through the trees, but abruptly cut off. The three arrived at the clearing just in time to see Russia pulling Japan into his arms. The katana lay discarded nearby, dropped and forgotten. Even though their friend's face was hidden by Russia's scarf, his arms still hung limply, swaying with the Russian's movement.

'_. . . It will be the end.'_

"You fucking _bastard_!" Romano screamed, absolutely livid. "Leave Japan alone, goddammit!"

Meanwhile, Italy began waving his white flag at mock-speed. "Please give Japan back, Russia!" his voice growing more hysteric with each word, tears threatening to spill. "I'll even let you keep the pasta! _Just_ _give Japan back_!"

The Italian's voices overlapped, making it next to impossible to discern what either was saying. Germany, however, took the most straight-forward approach and fired a warning shot into the air to silence the others before pointing his loaded gun at the large nation. "If you don't give our ally back I'll shoot," he threatened.

Russia gave the German a friendly smile, "Da, comrade."

Germany stared at the other incredulously, "You'll give Japan back?!"

The Russian's smile turned darkly innocent, "Nyet, I was agreeing that you would shoot." He turned to leave.

'_. . . You may never see me again.'_

"Bastard!" Romano yelled, perfectly mirroring Germany's thoughts. He shot at the large Russian, trying to stop him from leaving. However, despite his bulky size, Russia was anything but clumsy or slow. Germany hadn't counted that Russia would be fast enough to _dodge_ a bullet, and almost didn't shoot a second time. Already it had become harder to aim, now only able to see the Russian for a few seconds between trees.

A second shot rang out, a third, then a fourth. Russia was moving away, almost out of view. – Damn he's fast – Germany cursed, growing increasingly panicked as each moment passed. – Only Italy will be able to catch up with him at this rate – he glanced at his ally, who had fallen to his knees, sobbing pitifully as he continued to feebly wave the flag in his hands. – That's not happening anytime soon – he thought grimly.

Russia came into view once again, and the German aimed for another, final shot. Putting all his hope in this last bullet, he rapidly fired the gun. The Russian stumbled slightly, a hit! Germany went to run after the Russian, hoping to God he could catch up. However, while he himself was raring to go run after a stalker who kidnapped his friend and save said friend as promised, his leg was not. He had put too much strain on the healing muscles, so, with a final pulse of pain through his shrieking nerves; his leg gave out underneath him. The German stumbled, taking the brunt of the impact with his arms as he fell.

"G-Germany!" Italy cried, shuffling over to the nation's side. Germany tried to wave him away, mumbling that he was fine. He would have managed to pass it off too, had it not been for the clear wince of pain the moment he moved his hand. Not that the German cared.

'_. . . It will be the end.'_

Japan was gone.

'_. . . You may never see me again.'_

They had failed him. Their friend, who had believed they would protect him. _Why_ hadn't they listened? Japan had been so worried ever since they learned Russia was on the island, and they had done everything they could to protect him, yet he had still been taken away. – Wait, – Germany thought – everything? Where's Spain? – he looked around, realizing he hadn't seen the Spaniard since that morning. Suddenly, said nation burst out of the trees and froze, looking around the clearing.

A few seconds ago with Spain:

The phrase 'incredibly worried' pretty much summed up Spain's existence, now more than ever before. He had caught the tail end of the screaming and then heard a gun going off near where he had left Japan. His pace increased yet again, and he found himself praying as he ran, hoping he had made the right choice. Germany, Italy, and his Roma~ were there to help after all. Surely they could hold out a bit longer until he got there to back them up . . .

He burst through the trees into the small clearing, and his gaze naturally fixated on his Roma~. After all, as depressing as it sounded, Spain could always count on Romano to cuss him out, calling him tomato-bastard and yelling about how stupid he could be. As long as that happened, everything would be alright. His stomach clenched in fear as Romano stared at him blankly for a moment, dazed at what had just happened; frozen as a statue. The Spaniard let his gaze wander over Germany and Italy crouched on the ground, who had turned to look at him, until he saw something.

Japan's katana. The one thing he never left behind. Spain had only been around a day and he still saw how enamored the Asian was with that sword of his, keeping it clean and sharp, doing complex dance patterns and drills to refresh his skills. The island nation would never leave it lying around, exposed to the elements.

– Russia has taken him – Spain realized. – He took him and I wasn't here to help. What an idiot I am, Romano is right. –

'_. . . We are not splitting up. That is the last thing I wish to do.' _

Guilt crashed over the Spaniard, wishing he hadn't left Japan alone. Suddenly, Romano came to his senses as he saw Spain standing there.

The Italian was so mad he could barely see straight when he saw the tomato-bastard staring at Japan's katana. He rushed forward, grabbing a fistful of Spain's shirt and growling, "Where the hell were you, Antonio?"

"Huh?" Spain whispered, wishing he didn't know why Romano would use his human name.

"Antonio Fernandez Carriendo, you have five fucking seconds to tell me why the hell you weren't here with Japan or I will never forgive you," Romano hissed, his grip tightening. Germany rushed forward to separate the two before the Italian strangled the Spaniard.

"I was getting these," Spain said softly, holding out the brown bag, not daring to rub his neck as he looked at the others sheepishly.

Germany grabbed it, pulling out a few decent sized bottles of vodka. "Why?" he asked.

"To bait the traps, amigo," Spain said with a weak smile.

"Bait the traps?" Italy asked, clueless as always.

"Sí. I thought that Russia would be caught much easier if there was something to draw him to the traps. Japan stayed behind to set them up. I thought it would be more time efficient," Spain whined, more to himself than the others. Italy seemed satisfied with this answer, as well as Germany.

Romano, however, wasn't convinced. "Where did you get these, tomato-bastard?" he demanded, waving one of the bottle in the Spaniard's face.

"At the Convenience Store on the other side of the island, Roma~!" Spain exclaimed, sighing in relief, glad Romano had calmed down a bit and gone back to his insults.

"Wait, what Convenience Store?" Germany demanded, having no idea what the nation was talking about.

"The Convenience Store America and China built on the other side of the island, of course!"

"They're _here_?!" both Germany and Italy yelled.

Spain nodded, glad he could at least give the others some useful information, "Yep! All the Allies are!"

Italy and Germany stared at the Spaniard for a few minutes, shocked. Their enemies had been on the island this whole time? Why had they not realized this? Or, more appropriately, why had they not suspected it?

Suddenly, an idea struck, and hope blossomed in Germany's heart. Although his plan was far from perfect, considering their current circumstances, he couldn't care less. They were going to get Japan back.

Tokyo, Japan - The Human World:

Japan woke while someone was wiping his forehead. His head still felt more than a bit fuzzy from what Russia did to knock him out back on the island, so he was completely shocked to find himself staring at the Emperor's assistant, who was in the midst of placing a damp cloth on his forehead. She jumped when he opened his eyes, quickly leaving to inform his boss that the nation had come to.

– I'm in the Human World? – he thought, dazed. – How long have I been out? A day? Two? – His thoughts were interrupted when the Emperor arrived, telling Japan to follow him. He complied, still confused and wondering what was going on. The last thing he remembered was Russia grabbing him and then . . . nothing. How had he gotten back home? No, a better question was where was Russia?

Before Japan could actually voice any of these questions, the Emperor swept into a room, which he followed into, only to find Russia and the Russian's boss.

"R-Russia-san?" Japan asked, jumping slightly as he turned to the Emperor, "Hirohito-sama, what is Russia-san doing here?"

However, his boss ignored him in favor of greeting Russia's boss. "Stalin, it is nice to see you again. I hope to find you well?" The Japanese nation blinked in surprise, not sure if he had heard his boss correctly.

"Why yes, Hirohito," Stalin answered politely, his hardened lips twitching into a smile while Japan stared at them in silent shock. "I am glad we're having this conversation at last. I must admit I was quite . . . surprised when you allowed your country there to sign the Tripartite Pact and ally with the Axis Powers."

The Emperor sighed, "No more surprised than I was, I assure you."

A flush rose, unbidden, to Japan's cheeks, and he hung his head in shame, wishing his hair was longer so it would hide his embarrassing blush.

Russia smiled, butting into the conversation, "Yes, but that is all in the past, comrades. We shall be getting to the matter at hand, da?"

"Yes, yes. Don't be so impatient, Russia," Stalin muttered impatiently. He turned to the Emperor, "So, since we have already drawn up all legislature and other documents needed, we just need a plan for how to actually unify our countries."

Japan froze, pinching himself to certify that he wasn't trapped in some sort of out-of-control nightmare. No such luck. Russia leaned forward, eager to contribute to the discussion at hand, and the smaller nation could not help but shudder at the smirk on his face.

"We will have a wedding, da?" Russia proposed, sounding as if it had already been decided.

"A wedding?" the Emperor asked.

"Da, a wedding. After all," Russia continued, "a wedding is a symbol of unity, da? So Japan and I get married, and the countries will become one. It happens all the time with the other nations, like Comrade Finland and Comrade Sweden."

"But Russia-san," Japan interrupted softly, wishing he had a better point to nitpick on in order to point out the flaws with this plan, "it does not always work that way. Their countries have been independent for over a hundred years, even though Finland-san and Sweden-san have stayed together. It hasn't changed the separation. What if, like them, it doesn't work this time around? The 'symbol'," Japan's lips curled almost unnoticeably in disgust, "would go to waste."

"Da, Japan, but this is different. You have seen first-hand that our decisions influence our people, just look at when you joined the war. Your people joined too, even if they didn't understand why, and this marriage will be the same. We will become one, and our people will as well, da?"

The Asian sorely wanted to contradict Russia, but, being excellent at reading the atmosphere, knew he was just one misplaced word away from crossing the boundaries. He had already vaulted the line by running off and joining the war against his boss's wishes and did not need to make matters any worse with a nervous tongue, so he bit his lip and kept quiet. However, he _did_ catch the Emperor's eye, signaling that they needed to talk in private.

…

"What do you want?" Emperor Hirohito asked bluntly. "There's no way you can get out of this. Stalin and I have already begun to merge our counties diplomatically."

"I am not marrying Russia-san, Hirohito-sama," Japan stated, just as bluntly, although a pleading gleam had begun to show in his eyes.

"Then how do you propose you and Russia symbolize the unification? A symbolic marriage is the most direct way." The man glared pointedly at the nation, tapping his foot with impatience as he waited for Japan's answer.

– _He's right you know__ – _a small, logical voice murmured in the back of the nation's mind.

– Shut it – Japan thought irritably.

– _But it's true. That symbol would be the most binding, more so than just going and living in Russia's house as, like you were planning__– _the voice argued.

– Your insensitivity to my feelings continues to amaze me – the Asian commented dryly. – Particularly since you _are_ me. –

– _Your inability to make a proper decision still amazes _me. _Remind me, since when did you get the right to finalize decisions? I could take control again, it wasn't all that long ago when I was in charge anyway__ – _came the counter.

– Look, are you going to be helpful or not? – Japan demanded. – There's no reason for us to be arguing right now, Kuro, especially since I am in the middle of a conversation. –

– _Do you even have a plan for how to circumvent this, or are you just going to leave your answer as a no and expect him to accept that?__ – _Kuro inquired.

The nation shuddered at the suggestion. – I would never do something so inconsiderate and you know it – he replied frostily.

– _Then what is your plan?__ – _Kuro asked. Then, when he received no immediate answer from his counterpart, sighed _– __At least give him a good reason to consider your side, so he'll think about it__ – _he advised.

Japan gawked at his internal self, - I will. – A pause – Arigato, Kuro. –

During this internal conversation, the Emperor was staring at Japan in impatient silence, wanting to get back to the negotiations. The nation snapped out of his reverie a few seconds after entering, but it was still annoying to be kept waiting.

Before Japan could offer his argument, however, he sighed and snapped, "The marriage will take place in a week. If you come across any way to bond yourself to the other nation without having to actually marry him, I will hear it out. Now, excuse me, but I have a meeting to attend to." And with that he left the room, subtly rubbing his temples.

The Japanese man stared at the door as it shut, wondering where that outburst had come from. No, more importantly, how was he going to find a way around getting married to Russia in less than a week?

* * *

**A/N **

***Evil chuckle* Yes, I'm basically marrying Japan off to Russia. No, there will be no way to get out of it (not that he won't try XD). Although, if anyone has any suggestions for things that Japan could think of to get around it, please share! **

**Just to clarify some things, think of Kuro as Japan's logical side, the inner voice nobody likes butting in, yet can't stop listening to (in Japan's case, at least). And, as for the mysterious person talking to Russia, who do _you_ think it is? The person will be revealed with time, but I'd still like to hear theories. ****;)**

**For another small warning, this story will be told with two different basic plots. Germany and Co trying to rescue Japan, and Russia and Japan's life together. **

**Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have a wedding to plan. (Suggestions for any extra ceremonies and such are, once again, welcome. I'd love to add to what I already have planned!)**

**As always, please review~!**


	5. Just A Symbol?

**Here it is, as promised~! This is the longest chapter so far, and I must admit I am fairly proud of myself for writing half of this in one sitting. I hope the second part of the chapter, in Japan's POV won't be too confusing. Let's just say everything will (hopefully) be explained later, and leave it at that.**

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, followed, and favorited, I very much appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: It seems I still haven't fallen into almost unmanageable wealth, so I doubt I will be the owner of Hetalia or its characters anytime soon. But this plot is MINE! ALL MINE! (and my friend's, but nobody needs to know that . . .)**

**This chapter contains: Romano, an Incredibly-Pissed-Off-About-Pearl-Harbor America, a very, VERY delirious Japan, and plot.**

**You have been warned . . . Please Enjoy~**

* * *

Chapter 5

Germany couldn't figure out why Romano was helping him. No matter what he thought of, none of it made sense. Sure, he could have been cooperating with everyone in order to help Japan, but that didn't explain why he had stopped contradicting Germany, nor why he was being nicer to Italy or tolerating Spain. If the German wasn't so worried about executing the plan properly, his head probably would have imploded from the shock.

But he didn't have any time to worry about that now. Not when he was heading towards people that had every right to kill him on sight. He couldn't even blame them if they did, after what had happened during the war.

He glanced over at Italy as they walked, noticing that his ally had begun to tremble uncontrollably. Honestly, he couldn't tell who would be more pissed off if the nation ran away before they could put their plan into action, Romano, or himself? Germany sighed, figuring that they would find out soon enough anyway. No matter what Japan said about Italy . . . no, he couldn't go there. Just thinking about his friend, who was almost indefinitely in some sort of mortal danger at that very moment, being with Russia and all, caused his gut to clench in fear and guilt.

– We'll save you, Japan – Germany thought grimly. – Even if it's the last thing we do. –

All four continued to make their way through the undergrowth of the forest. As much as they wanted to wait for a more appropriate time to begin, time was obviously not on their side and they needed to help Japan as quickly as possible. They couldn't wait another day to start. Personal sacrifices, while unwanted, had become a must if they wanted to do anything quickly from now on.

With the Allies (minus Russia, of course):

They were still trying to get over Russia's desertion. When he hadn't come back that night, they knew he was gone. The only reason they let him roam around the island in the first place was under the condition that he would return to their base camp every night and check in with them. Everyone felt this to be a shocking blow that they had lost one of their more powerful eastern allies. Well, except America.

"Good riddance!" the American had quite loudly exclaimed the moment that Russia was late. "I mean, seriously dudes! Talk about a lucky break for us, man!"

"He is your ally you git," Britain had snapped, but America only grinned at that.

"Aw, c'mon Iggy, loosen up will you? Now that the Commie is gone, I can finally sleep the whole night cuz you won't have any reason to wake me up with your nightmares!"

The English man sputtered indignantly, "I do not have nightmares!" he yelled. "And, even if I did, why would I wake _you_ up, you bloody prick. You're more insensitive than Russia, and you don't even appreciate tea, for God's sake!"

"And what does tea have to do with insensitivity, mon ami?" France asked.

"Aiyaah, why would you ever ask such a meaningless question aru~? Tea is an incredibly sensitive brew aru~!" China cried, looking at the Frenchman in horror.

"No, China, dude, tea is totally disgusting. Seriously, it's the brew of old dudes. Uncool, man," America moaned, wondering how they had managed to get back to talking about tea.

Britain and China wheeled on the American, ready to attack him, when, suddenly, they heard an unfamiliar sound.

"Guys, please, we don't have to fight," Canada whispered, for about the thousandth time since the argument had broken out, and was surprised to see everyone turn to him. – They actually heard me? – he wondered. Another rustle echoed through the undergrowth behind him, and he sighed slightly in frustration, realizing that that was what had drawn his allies' attention.

"Great, dudes. Don't tell me it's Russia or I'll punch you," America muttered, although it was still louder than anything his brother had managed to say.

"If you so much as lay a hand on me, you git, I swear to God you'll regret it," Britain hissed.

"Ohonhonhon, what about me, Angleterre?" France chuckled quietly.

"This is not the time aru~!" China snapped at them, watching the trees rustle warily.

Suddenly, four figures emerged from the trees, and the Allies quickly drew their weapons, pointing them threateningly at their enemies. The only thing that stopped them from attacking the four was the incredibly odd and unexpected sight of Germany limping towards them using a white flag as a crutch.

"What-" everyone spluttered, but were cut off by America as he greeted Spain.

"Dude, I should have known! The vodka must have really worked if you got rid of the Commie so quickly!" he exclaimed, winking at the Spaniard.

"I have fear that this isn't the case, amigo," Spain replied sadly.

Before America could reply, Britain butted in, "What in the world is going on here?" However, his glare was focused upon his old ward rather than his enemies.

The American looked at Britain in surprise, and then grinned without repentance, "Yesterday, Spain came to the Store and told me he had a plan to get rid of the Commie, but he needed vodka to do the bastard in."

"And you gave him some?!" Britain yelled, flabbergasted.

"Yep!" America exclaimed proudly, thoroughly enjoying England's reaction.

"B-but Russia is your _ally_, Alfred!" This invited yet another squabble to break out between the two.

Thoroughly sick of the arguments, Canada quietly walked over to Spain and asked what he meant when he said 'that is not the case'. Surprisingly, to the Canadian that is, the others heard and turned to listen.

"Ve~, actually, that's exactly why we're here!" Italy exclaimed brightly, although there was a sad note tingeing his voice. He was still trembling at the idea of confronting their enemies, but wanted to be stronger, if not for his sake then for Japan's.

"What do you mean, Italia?" France asked.

"Where is that little bastard of a nation, anyway?" America asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he referred to Japan. "Left him behind because you were afraid I'd beat the snot out of that piece of-"

"That's enough," Germany growled at the American. He knew they were there to make a truce, but that did not stop him from defending his friends. "We're here to discuss Russia and Japan."

"What about them aru~?" China asked, beginning to grow worried. "Where is Kiku aru~?"

Germany sighed, "He's been kidnapped by Russia."

Everyone fell silent except America, who shouted, "Hell yeah! That's what you get for attacking the U. S. of A. you little bastard!" He started doing a victory dance, not caring that his allies were starting at him in horror, until he comprehended the rest of the sentence. Stopping short, he whirled on the Axis, "What do you mean the _Commie_ kidnapped him?"

Britain face-palmed, as did China. Romano's resolve to be as nice as possible in order to make the truce work dissolved, and he yelled at America, "Shut the fuck up, hamburger-bastard! God, your voice is giving me a headache."

Germany cut off America's retaliation, "Yes, Russia kidnapped him. We, unfortunately, fear the worst in this case,-" "Pessimistic potato-bastard," Romano muttered, which Germany ignored, "-and, therefore, come here with a proposal."

"And what would that be?" Britain inquired, his voice rather tense.

"Ve~, we need to save Japan from Russia of course!" Italy exclaimed, as if it was obvious.

"And why, if I may ask, would we help our . . . enemy?" Britain asked.

"Ve~, because Japan was scared that Russia was going to eat him! I don't want my friend to be eaten!" Italy cried, perfectly sincere.

China was horrified, "Aiyaah, _eat _him aru? I thought he wanted to _marry _Kiku aru, not eat him!"

Thunderstruck, Britain cried, "Marry him?!"

"Ve~, that too!" Italy exclaimed, pleased they knew what was going on.

The Englishman twisted to face Germany. "What do you want help with?" he asked, his voice more urgent than he had intended. The German raised an eyebrow as a silent question, and the nation sputtered at his mistake, "N-not that I want to help or anything. Bloody hell, I just can't let Russia desert us in order to marry . . . him." China nodded fervently in agreement, worried for his little Japan.

"Wait dudes! Iggy, old man-" both protested to America's nicknames, but he continued obliviously "-you can't seriously be helping them! Helping that bastard Japan! He's the enemy, and what do we do with enemies? We. Kill. Them."

"America, you can't kill Japan," Canada whispered in alarm. Everyone jumped, having forgotten their quiet friend.

"Why the hell not, Mattie?" the nation demanded, glaring at his brother.

"I doubt you would want millions of deaths on your conscious, Alfred," the Canadian whispered dryly.

"Because it's bloody extreme, you prat," Britain seconded, sending America a withering glare, which was pointedly ignored.

"And the attack on Pearl Harbor wasn't?" the American hissed.

Germany sighed, wondering how this conversation had gotten out of hand so quickly. "Now America, I'm not saying that Japan was completely justified-"

"Justified? _Justified_?" the nation yelled. "That attack was completely _un_justified! I was neutral, yet the little bastard attacked me out of the blue! ME! THE HERO!"

"But Japan would never do something like that without a good reason," Italy murmured reflectively, staring at his current enemy with a small frown.

"He didn't' have _any_ reason to do what he did," America snapped, on a roll. "It was an _unprovoked-_"

"Actually, Japan did have a reason," Canada interrupted softly. Once again, everyone turned to the normally silent nation in surprise. America turned a strange shade of purple, gulping for air as he tried to retaliate.

After a moment, in which the American had been unable to find any words, France turned to his old charge, "What do you mean, mon cher?"

Canada sighed, almost wishing that everyone would go back to ignoring him, He wasn't used to being in the spotlight. "I mean all those tariffs and immigration quotas that that boss of yours, Coolidge or whatever he was called, was so crazy for. You all-" he glanced at each European nation "-may have thought it bad that only three or four percent of your citizens could immigrate to America out of everyone that wanted to, but Japan . . . his people were completely excluded." America finally got his second wind, but Canada wasn't about to let him interrupt, "Then there's the Great Depression. In case you didn't notice, Alfred, your people treated Japan's _former_ citizens like the plague, and they were excluded from any benefits you offered others."

Shaking his head, America snorted, "Yeah, because he definitely knows how his people are treated in _my_ country."

Romano, who had remained eerily silent until now, gave a rather startled laugh, "I wouldn't put it past him, hamburger-bastard."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Besides that you've misplaced that minute thing you call a brain, seeing as you keep underestimating our friend, hamburger-bastard?" Romano mused, a smirk growing on his face, "Only that he is the most connected to the Human World out of anyone I've ever met. If anyone is able to follow a family of citizens across country borders, he'd be the one. "

"So he's a spy?" America asked, confused.

"No, idiota, he's a nation. Get the picture, will ya? And then do everyone a favor and shut up. Your voice is really grinding on my nerves, hamburger-bastard."

"Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this civilly?" Spain suggested quietly. ""We are, by no means, here to attack you, amigos, so why don't we treat this as an actual political truce as of now."

"Fine," America grumbled, heading over to his 'HERO CHAIR' to sit down. He was still more than a bit perplexed about the whole 'spy' thing, so he didn't protest when his enemies were led to seats on the opposite side of the fire, although he continued to watch them warily.

China was zoned out next to Germany, beside himself with worry, and Britain wasn't far behind. The latter kept scowling, catching himself wanting to help his one-time friend and current enemy. Canada kept sending odd glances at his brother every few, moments, as if expecting him to relapse and turn angry again. France, ignoring everyone at the moment, sat next to Spain and struck up a conversation, glad to see his friend again. The Spaniard returned the greeting reluctantly, nervous about what the Allies would say to their proposal. Italy and Romano were sandwiched between their allies, staring uncomfortably at America as he watched them.

Romano, naturally, had a great many things he wished to snap at the American, but he bit his tongue in favor of the plan, knowing it was probably their last chance to receive any help to save Japan. It was tempting though.

As soon as they were comfortable, Germany cleared his throat, addressing everyone. "I know we, as a whole, do not always see . . . eye to eye on many issues. However, as Italy mentioned earlier, I do believe we should be able to agree on one simple fact: Russia cannot be allowed to marry Japan. He is already too powerful and will become a major threat if this happens to all of us. Think of all the ports and resources he will gain from having their countries 'become one' as he so eloquently puts it."

"Ve~, but I thought that the only way you could become one with _anything_ was to eat it!" Italy cried, staring at Germany in shock. He still hadn't made the connection.

France chuckled, raising an eyebrow suggestively, "Ohonhonhon, there are a great many ways to 'become one' with another person, Italia. For instance-"

"Shut the hell up, you perverted frog!" Britain cried, turning an absolutely adorable shade of tomato red as he did so. With an indignant huff, he turned back to Germany, "You were saying?"

The latter shifted uncomfortably, "Only that we have a preposition we think more or less benefits everyone here. None of you are obligated to help, we understand that . . . especially since we're all still technically at war right now, but we ask all of you to hear us out."

America looked ready to object straight off, but Canada nudged him so he maintained his stormy silence, sending small glares at his brother.

"Let's hear it then," Britain decided, feeling more and more like a spokesperson every passing moment as he motioned for the German man to continue.

"We propose that everyone, whether temporarily or not, disregards the current war in favor of rescuing Japan. I understand-" he raised his voice over America's protests "-that rescuing _our_ ally may not be in the best interests to all of you._ However_, think of the threat that Russia will become to all of us if he does indeed add the expanse of the country of Japan onto his own territories. No matter what anyone says, the union will not be of mutual consent, which makes it all the worse because even those who don't know, or even dislike Japan, should still be able to tell that he would defend Russia to the death if he was ordered to do so. That is how Japan works, he will lay down his life to those he serves and do so without question, although whether it would be gladly or not is still up for some debate."

"How do you propose this plan works aru~?" China asked.

"Since we do not have a set number of people to work with us at the moment, your answer may vary considerably. That is part of my offer; everyone needs to consult with their bosses anyway before we can do anything," Germany added.

"So you're saying that we should head back to our homes and have a conversation with our bosses about your preposition before we decide anything? What about you, Germany, or you, Italy? Don't you need to talk to your bosses as well?" Canada inquired softly.

"Yeah, like I'm going to talk to that bastardo, invisible man. Seriously, we're helping our _friend_, not attacking him like you guys'll end up doing, so to hell with the prick," Romano snapped, frustrated by how stupid everyone was being.

"Ah, I see," the Canadian whispered back.

Germany went back to business mode, "Alright, so, under the assumption that you'll consider our offer, how about we meet in a week in, say, Spain's place. You don't mind, do you? It's just that you're the only neutral nation present . . ."

"No, I don't mind, amigo."

"Then we'll meet a week from tomorrow at Spain's place. Will you all consider our offer?" Germany asked, giving everyone a cross between a glare and a pleading look.

"Of course I will help aru~!"

"Fine, I'll consider it . . . but only because you gits will mess everything up if I leave you to your own devices!"

"Ohonhonhon, I will see what I can do, mon ami!"

"I will talk to my boss, and see what I can do to help."

". . . I'll consider, I suppose. Anything to kick that Commie's butt."

". . . See you in a week . . ."

Japan POV:

Is it bad that I found it hard to think? Probably. It could be that I am so stressed that I literally cannot do anything; besides lay on my futon or mope around my house, of course.

That didn't explain why my head is so fuzzy though. Tea does not help either, which happens to be a real surprise since tea can normally be counted to help with all problems. If anything, it makes the fuzziness worse. Huh, something that tea cannot fix . . . how strange.

Why am I obsessing about tea again?

Well, no matter. It is not like the apocalypse is in less than a week or anything. More importantly, why am I not thinking about how to counteract the marriage? Oh, right, my head is fuzzy.

Tea should be able to fix that, right?

* * *

Each day passes in a sluggish blur, and then fades from one blur into the next. How many days are left until the ceremony? Five? Ten?

No, definitely not ten, because ten is more than seven . . . is it not? I can hardly tell anymore.

* * *

Time! That is what I need. Of course, how simple! Clock-san, onegai, turn back your hands and give us much needed time. An hour or two would be nice, and a whole day would be simply splendid!

Why do you not turn your hands back? Here, if it is help you need, then let me assist you!

You should not refuse my help, Clock-san, it is impolite.

There, that was not so hard, and now I have two more days . . . which brings my total to . . . ten! Or is that three? It can't be seven, since that is less than what I had yesterday.

Ah, arigato, Clock-san. Two and a half o'clock's left until Tuesday, how marvelous!

Time for bed~

* * *

Why should I be worried about that stupid marriage? There is plenty of time! Twenty-seven whole days is nothing to scoff at, after all. Or is it thirty-two? No matter, now I can spend as much time as I need to think of all those better ways to get out of marrying Russia-san.

If only that cat was not so interesting. Every minute, on the dot, its whiskers twitch, and every hour it sticks its tongue out and meows. The tail keeps swinging around, and, most interestingly of all, it keeps purring. Though how a cat can purr when it is stuck to the wall like that is honestly beyond me.

_NYA~!_

There, look! It did it again! That was the seventh time since this morning! Kami-sama is that cat adorable!

Like I said, I have all the time in the world.

* * *

Visitors! There were visitors today! The ladies did something really funny. They would take out these stripes and tickle me with them! The visitors did!

And, and, guess what? They said they will be back tomorrow, too! I hope they refrain from tickling me again, because I definitely do not want Russia-san finding out I am ticklish. But that does not really matter, because I will have visitors tomorrow!

Visitors! In my house! Maybe I should make some tea and impress the visitors! Or, even better, maybe I should cook something for them! Then the visitors will have to stay for longer, and longer, and longer-

Ooh, is that plant flowering?

* * *

The visitors came again! They did not tickle me, thank goodness, but they certainly did surprise me.

I'm going travelling~! I _love_ travelling, almost as much as I love that cat. It sure is patient, especially since it has not moved for the past few days. I think it's trying to trick me, but I will outwit it! _I am the most patientist one here, cat! You will not deny me!_

Whenever I ask where we are going, the visitor lady always says we will be gone for a while. I really cannot believe that she trusts me enough to let me stay at her place! We are becoming fast friends, if I have ever seen such a thing.

Perhaps I should stop calling her Visitor-san, though. It does not seem to be a very friend-like thing to do. What was her name again?

* * *

As the fog of my mind diffused a bit, I noticed something strange. There was a man standing in front of me. He was reading from a book, so I could not tell if he was talking to me . . . or to someone else. Like the person next to me, for instance.

Wait, person next to me? Reading a book?!

My world cleared immediately, and I struggled to open my ears and hear what the man was saying.

"-to celebrate the union of Ivan Braginski and Kiku Honda," he droned.

WHAT?! Nervously, I glanced to the person next to me, if only to confirm this nightmare was true. There Russia-san stood, proud and tall, a smirk playing across his face although he kept trying to hide it in a mask of seriousness; he had me trapped and he knew it. Panicking, I tried to calm my heart, which had quickened upon realizing that my week was up. I had failed to come up with a solution to the problem, and beyond that, I was being married to my stalker. This was not my day, especially here in . . .

Where was I anyway? Glancing around, I took in the cathedral around us. Russia, we were definitely in Russia. No traditional place in Japan that I knew of looked like that, and this was obviously traditional. I must admit that is very smart on his part. Now he can take the documents and put them in a place I would never be able to get to, simply because they are not in my nation.

No, stop admiring his decision! I need to find a way out of this _now_!

Again, I knew I should not have been nit-picking the details, but same-sex marriage in Russia was illegal at the moment, right? And since we were in the Human World, the same laws apply to us, no matter whether we are nations or not! Perfect, I decided, nodding my head forward slightly to hide the smirk threatening to spread onto my face, all I need is to-

Something caught my eye and my whole body froze faster than water in minus 25 degree temperatures. A hair ornament. More appropriately, a comb woven into my hair, which was suddenly much longer than it had been . . . only a week ago?

Crap. Hesitantly, I lowered my eyes to my clothes, knowing I would not like what I saw. As I take in the heavy white silk adorning my frame, I could not decide whether I should start crying at the injustice of it all, or laugh at myself for not noticing it earlier.

I was in a traditional wedding kimono. A _woman's_ wedding kimono.

Someone will pay dearly for doing this.

Unfortunately, since I was not willing to ruin my own reputation and inform the man – priest? – that I was actually, in fact, male, that meant this option was no longer valid. The easiest option too, letting Russia-san's own legislature work against him; so simple, yet so brilliant.

Come on, brain, what other choices do I have? Before I could think of another brilliant plan, I felt my hand being gently tugged until I was facing Russia-san.

"Do you, Ivan Braginski, take Kiku Honda as your wife-"

What happened to 'speak now or forever hold your peace'? I thought giddily, stupidly wasting another second of precious time.

"I do," Russia-san said solemnly, squeezing my hand slightly.

Feeling a ring slip on my right ring finger, I glance at Russia-san, who had turned to sign a piece of paper placed before us. As soon as he straightened, the priest turned to me.

"Do you, Kiku Honda, take Ivan Braginski-"

No, please no. This was happening too fast! I needed time to think! What do I do, _what do I do_?!

I could say no . . . but everyone is expecting me to say yes. Beyond that, this is just a symbolic thing right? A gesture of the union between Japan and Russia, not an actual wedding.

Right?

- _Something isn't right about this _– Kuro warned.

The priest looked at me expectantly; Russia-san looked into my eyes. His were pleading softly, begging for me to say yes.

– _Vie for time. Postpone as best you can. There's something about this that just feels plain wrong _– Kuro hissed at me.

– But Kuro, it is just a symbol – I thought back, even though an odd feeling had been nagging at my conscious for a while now too. He was right, something was definitely . . . off about this ceremony.

But there was no time for that. I had to decide _now_. Almost frenzied, and quite against my better judgment, I took the ring that had been handed to me Kami knows when and pushed it onto Russia-san's offered ring finger.

Finding my voice, I choked out a very shaky, "I do," and unconsciously leaned down to sign my name under his: Kiku Honda.

– _You will regret this_ – Kuro sighed, muddling through the ceremony and trying to find out what was so different about it.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest proclaimed in an official monotone.

I turned myself into a statue, freezing in place. Just because I went along with his ceremony did not mean I was going to make it easy for him. I resolved myself to make him, at the very least, bend down embarrassingly and fight for even a brush against my lips. Unfortunately for my plans, he placed a hand firmly under my chin, forcing my head to tilt back. Before I could pull away, he pressed his icy lips to mine for a single, fleeting second, and then guided me down the aisle by my elbow.

We walked past the audience, who had stood to congratulate us, including both our bosses and, as far as I could tell, almost anyone within the government that knew we were nations instead of regular officials. My new 'husband' was leading us to the door, and I hoped I would have at least a few quiet seconds to myself so I could figure out why the ceremony had made me so uneasy, but that turned out to be unnecessary.

It clicked as soon as Russia murmured, "Come, we should be going home. Da, Kiku?"

Human names . . .

That _bastard!_

* * *

**A/N**

**All will be explained . . . in time.**

**I hope I didn't throw anyone off too bad with Japan's insanity. There's a seriously good reason for that, trust me.**

**Anyway, that's the basic layout for the rest of the story. A Japan/Russia section, with more Hetalia characters as the story progresses, and a Axis/Allies section. They can go in either order, or even sandwich each other (which will probably how the next chapter is, depending on whether the plot demands attention or not). **

**Reviews are, as always, very much appreciated. **

**Thank you for reading, and I'll see you (talk to you?) next chapter. ;)**


	6. Hey Boss

**A/N Umm, Hi! Or should I begin with I'm sorry? I know, this chapter took forever. My excuses can be summed up into a single, run on sentence. Mousepad and wi-fi suicide; writers block; a creativity overload (which ended in writer's block); and that wonderful tsunami of reality (School ends in 6 weeks. 6. WEEKS. T-T I'm doomed...). **

**Anyway, I realized something interesting/semi-romantic about this story a month ago. According to the timeline in my head, this story starts 5 days after Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) which would make it the 12th. After doing some calculations, I realized that Russia and Japan get married on December 21, 1941, AKA the first day of winter. **

**Just a fun fact. Like the DISCLAIMING Fun Fact that I don't own Hetalia (sadly).**

**Thanks to everyone that followed, favorited, and reviewed last chapter!**

**Warning: contains swearing (America), and abuse of historic evidence. I apologize in advance for any 'historical inaccuracies' or bad portrayals of leading figures during WWII. **

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 6

To say that he was mad would have been an understatement. Japan was _furious_, and not only at Russia, for tricking him, but at himself for letting Russia do so.

The wedding had not been symbolic, it had been an actual wedding. His husband, not 'husband' as anticipated, had managed to pull the wool over Japan's eyes long enough to get away with using their human names instead of referring to their county names.

– I am such an idiot – the new Kiku _Braginski_ grumbled at himself.

– _Yes. Yes you are. I warned you, didn't I? But no, no one ever listens to me anymore. It's just 'symbolic' after all_ – Kuro growled. Japan sighed, knowing his counterpart was just upset he had not caught the trick in time.

It was a living nightmare. He was legally, and _fully_, married to his personal stalker and overall prick of a neighbor. His skin crawled where Russia held his elbow, despite the layer of white silk in between, and, were they not in front of dozens of people including their bosses, he would have promptly jerked his arm away.

Guided out of the cathedral, he found himself maneuvered to a waiting car out front -Government Issue- which was being lightly dusted in snow that swirled from the gray sky. Were it not for the thickness of the silk, the Japanese man would have been chilled to the bone at the onslaught of the northern winter. As Russia went to open the door for him, Japan twisted out of the creeper's grip and slid into the car, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it. With a shrug and noncommittal bob of his head, Russia walked around to the other side, grinning widely as he took the seat next to his 'wife'.

The large nation kept the grin on his face as he turned to stare at his partner, which Japan promptly chose to ignore, settling for a death glare before turning away. For safety's sake, he scooted closer to the door, practically gluing himself to the window. Nothing, and he meant _nothing,_ was going to bring him out of his corner of the car if he had anything to say about it!

– _Yes, but while that may be a wonderful resolution, haven't you noticed that your plans seem to be going awry recently?_ – Kuro pointed out bitterly. – _I mean: join the war so that Russia doesn't get you, and he kidnaps you anyway; plan for a week to figure out how to get out of the marriage and wake up from a daze on the alter . . . what makes you think this plan will go any better? For all you know, he might move closer and closer to you until 'your' corner becomes his corner too._ –

– Thank you, Kuro, for those lovely pessimistic thoughts – Japan answered sarcastically, coming to the same realization. Now, should he spread out slightly and risk a 'friendly' attack, or remain huddled and risk invasion? He would only be left alone for so long . . .

After contemplating his situation for a few seconds, which seemingly stretched on for eternity, nothing came to him. Perhaps if his head cleared a bit more, he would've been able to come up with a solution, but at the moment he was coming up blank.

The engine rumbled softly under his feet and he felt the vehicle move with a lurch. He did not know how long it would take to arrive at Russia's house, although he speculated it would take an hour or so at least. After all, as far as he could remember the Russians did not have any fool proof way of removing snow from the roads, and, depending on how long it had been snowing, they could easily be caught in a snow-bank if Russia's house was far enough from town. He couldn't help but suspect that it was on the fringe of his capital at least, seeing as how distant Russia was from his people in the first place.

As the car continued through the streets, Japan was torn between wanting to get to Russia's quickly, for fear of being caught in the storm that was worsening every second that passed, and hoping they got caught on the roads. The biggest problem with the latter was that he had absolutely no idea how he would survive being in such a tight space with Russia for hours on end . . . but at the same time he did not want to reach the house. The moment he entered Russia's house there would be no escape, and he knew this from the moment his boss had suggested merging their countries together.

House arrest . . . how despicable and underhanded. It would be just like Russia to do that to him.

Maybe the car would drift into a snow-bank and they would have to walk. Then, at least, he would be able to try and lose that psycho in the storm under the pretense of getting lost, and give himself a chance to think. Or vie for time, either worked in Japan's opinion.

Only a few minutes had passed in silence as the car bustled along before Russia began moving once again. Japan automatically tensed, eying the other nation warily as he retrieved something from under his seat. Immediately, the Japanese man was envisioning all sorts of weapons and torture devises, or worse, a symbol that would suggest he belonged to someone. He shuddered rather violently at the image of a collar, as if he had to be restrained by his 'owner', wrapped possessively around his neck. The Russian brought the object into his line of sight. It was . . . a basket?

The large nation gave a lighthearted, albeit dark chuckle at the look on Japan's face since he had not managed to clear his emotions fast enough. "You do not need to worry, my little flower. Since you find it to be so cold here, I thought you would like some tea, da? It is black tea, your favorite." He poured out a cup from the thermos he had wrapped in a blanket as extra insulation and offered it to the Japanese man.

"Arigato, Russia-san," Japan murmured absently, his mind trying to avoid thinking about how Russia knew his favorite type of tea. Out of habit, he sipped the drink to be polite and show his gratitude.

– It is good – Japan realized with a start. – He did not mix in those sweeteners that westerners normally put in their drinks. – It was a rather pleasant surprise, he had to admit, continuing to drink as he reveled in the taste.

Because his head was already fuzzy from the last week, he did not immediately notice the returning haze spread over his mind. It was only halfway through the cup when he suddenly had to yawn that Japan noticed anything was off. Giving his body a mental check, he realized that all his limbs were unnaturally heavy, his body abnormally relaxed; especially for being in the same small car as his stalker.

To his surprise, Japan felt the cup being tugged from his grasp. Turning his head to the nation beside him, he noted that it was, indeed, the Russian who had taken the cup of good tea from him. Shaking his head to clear it, he gave the man a sloppy glare, not sure if his face was working properly anymore.

"You've been drugging me," he accused blearily, slurring his words slightly.

"You will sleep now my little flower, da?" Russia commanded cheerfully.

Already, Japan's eyes were drooping. He briefly wondered how Russia had managed to disguise such a strong drug that it could knock a nation out in something as simple as tea. Automatically, his brain stored the thought away for later; when he could think properly.

Giddily, the island nation thought of how grateful he was that Russia had not done anything drastic like this when he was stalking him, as that would have been quite terrible for Japan. The last thing that occurred to him was the horrifying thought that, by marrying him, Russia had legally gained the right to stalk him 24/7 before he drifted off into unconsciousness.

* * *

China slipped into his home quietly, grateful for the familiarity surrounding him as the door clicked shut behind him. Barely a moment had passed before he headed towards his boss's chambers. Not his human boss, but instead the dragon from ancient times. He often found himself consulting his immortal leader whenever he was preoccupied about something, such as Kiku, ahem ... Japan. If he went to his human boss first, not only would the dragon throw an absolute fit over being unappreciated, but his current boss would have decidedly said 'no' if China was not confident enough in his decision.

And confidence required a second opinion in this case.

Behind the house there was a small mountain, or, perhaps more appropriately, a very large hill, which sheltered the cave from the elements. After gathering his courage, China headed inside, walking straight to the back in order to find the large dragon. All he could hope was that the mythic creature was awake or this discussion would take a turn for the worse. Talk about a grumpy morning person.

The worst thing was that if you pointed out that he should not even be all that grumpy, seeing as it just so happened to be mid- afternoon, it would only make the situation worse. Every time China tried it, he always ended up with even worse results than the time before. Because of this, the Asian was very grateful for the signs that his host was quite obviously awake when he approached the cave.

**What do you want?** his boss demanded the moment he entered the 'room'.

"I have a dilemma for which I would like to ask advice, aru," China stated diplomatically.

**Oh really, brat?** the dragon snorted, a truly terrifying event to witness because of the twin jets of flame spewing from his nostrils. **What is it this time? Have too many people to deal with anymore?**

"The population of my land is not what I wish to discuss on this visit, aru. My attention is warranted elsewhere by ... international problems."

**That silly war of yours?**

"It is not exactly what most would classify as 'silly', aru. There happen to be many lives at stake."

**Hmph, you mean it unites your people. I know you hate civil war, more than anything, and you'd be willing to join what people are calling World War II if it would stop all the political wars and class struggles.**

China sighed in exasperation, mainly because he was right. That was beside the point, though. "Anyway, I don't mean the war, aru, though it does have a bit to do with my dilemma. That northern creeper kidnapped Japan."

**Can it really be considered kidnapping? Why not call it something like nation-napping. It's more accurate.**

"I'm serious, Dragon! Kiku, er, Japan has been kidnapped by Russia!"

**And what does this have to do with me?**

"You can back up my decision to rescue him, that's what, aru. My boss in the Human World wouldn't listen to me otherwise, because it would mean attacking my ally for the sake of an… enemy." China whispered the last word, wincing as if it caused him physical pain to say it.

**Well, if you leave me alone, I guess I could support you**, the dragon said, boredom in his voice.** However, what do you plan on doing if your boss doesn't let you leave the war to help your little Japan?**

"Then I guess he'll have to deal with me after I rescue Kiku, aru," the Asian shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

**Poor man. Should I get the popcorn?**

"Be my guest."

* * *

How does one break it to his boss that he is planning on working with the man occupying his country? No matter how much he thought, France could not figure out a way to tell M. Gaulle that he wanted to work with Germany to help Japan. Not, of course, for the sake of Germany, but because Spain had asked him to. It always helped to be in Italy's good graces as well, and helping Japan would get him there. What was a Big Brother for, otherwise?

All too soon, he arrived at his house and felt it shift into the Human World. Stepping outside once again, he was met with the familiar sights and smells of the beautiful city of Paris. If only the sight wasn't marred by the Nazi flag, his homecoming would have been perfect.

Yes, his boss wasn't going to be happy about this news, but France could see no way around it. What a perfect chance to end the war! The majority of the German troops would have to leave the country in order to fight the Soviet Union if their negotiations turned to war, and then the French Freedom Movement would be able to push the rest out. Even he was strong enough for that much!

After being subject to multiple Nazi checkpoints all across the city, France located the secret headquarters to the freedom movement. With a knock on the door, he was admitted to his boss's office. Gaulle looked quite surprised to see him there.

"Do you have news?" was his greeting. Not 'hello' or 'how are you'.

"I have something I am considering and would like to discuss with you first, M. Gaulle."

Eyebrows raised in surprise. "And what would that be? We are in the middle of a war, France, and should not talk of superfluous actions until later."

"This has everything to do with the war, though it requires a bit of explanation first, I suppose."

"Then let's hear it."

"A few days ago, Japan, who, as you know, recently joined the Axis Powers, was kidnapped by Soviet Russia."

"I suppose congratulation is in order then…?" the man trailed off as France shook his head gently, deliberately letting his golden hair flutter through the air.

"No, no, mon ami. Russia has betrayed us and wishes to grow stronger by forming some sort of alliance with Japan. I hear that the latter nation only joined the war in order to stay away from Russia in the first place." He took a deep breath before continuing, "The Italy brothers and Germany approached us soon after Russia had disappeared. They … proposed a compromise, one which would end the war. At least, the war between the Allies and Axis Powers."

Gaulle's brows furrowed in confusion, "End the war how?"

"Well, it wasn't a proposal to end the war so much as it was to rescue Japan. However, in order to do so, all the remaining nations would have to work together. So … the end of the war essentially."

"Are you telling me Hitler actually agreed to turn all his attention to the Soviet Union and rescue the Japanese people? I know they pledged anti-communism, but that is a little bit too bi-polar, even for him."

"Actually, I asked Germany about that before we left. He said that 'although following orders are an important factor in avoiding the chaos of the uncivilized who cannot comprehend that a leader's word is everything, upholding the promises made between leaders is even more important'. This is, apparently, the only time he has, and most likely ever will, disobey his boss's orders," France shrugged.

Gaulle was silent for a few minutes, contemplating what the nation had just said. Finally, something clicked, "You're hoping he'll pull the troops out and focus solely on the Soviets."

It was a statement, not a question, but the French country nodded anyway.

* * *

Mr. Churchill and Mr. Mackenzie King were enjoying a nice evening discussing the war (quite the contradiction, I know), when England and Canada walked into the room.

"I t-told you my boss would b-be here," Canada whispered.

"Yeah, yeah."

England walked into the room, a nod of his head at the Prime Ministers before sitting down at the table, Canada following behind, looking a bit unsure as if he should sit or wait until he could leave.

The two men looked up in surprise, ""What are you two doing here?"

"We've come with a proposal," England began, glancing at Canada, who nodded, taking a seat.

They needed to hurry with this discussion if they wanted to get the upper hand on Russia, who would already have a week advantage over them.

"So what do you so desperately want to talk about?" Churchill asked.

"W-Well, you see, something happened, a-and w-we really want to help out. B-but, we n-need to have y-your permission first," Canada stammered, staring into space as he wringed his hand nervously.

"What do you ,mean you need our permission?" King asked, confused. "And even beyond that, if something happened, why haven't we heard of it yet? All the outcomes of battles are wired directly to us."

"A few days ago, Russia kidnapped Japan," England stated bluntly.

Churchill raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So you want to rescue Japan," he stated, ignoring the Canadian Prime Minister's questioning glance as he did so.

"Who cares about that traitorous prat?" the Brit hissed furiously, hating that he had said something like that in company. "The other nations suggested going after them, and I, for one, want to use this as a chance to attack Russia and put down this whole notion of how wonderful communism is once and for all. As much as I hate to admit it, the Axis were certainly right in their opinions of that practice. I mean, look at what's happened to Russia since he became the Soviet Union!"

"And by attacking Russia you hope to rescue Japan," the Prime Minister surmised, cutting off England's tirade.

"I am NOT trying to rescue K- Japan! It's his own bloody fault that he got caught. Bastard claims he's some sort of ninja or something and he can't even detect Russia. Russia, for God's sake! That's like being incapable of hearing a bloody howler monkey in the jungle!"

"Ah, is that all?"

"No, you know it isn't all!" the nation took a deep breath, trying to calm himself at being fou-, er, falsely accused of trying to help his enemy. The very idea was treacherous, and a nation was anything but treacherous. Right?

Well, either way they were in for a long talk. If only his boss wasn't so perceptive… he would be able to see that England really was doing this to defeat Russia, not something as idiotic as helping Ki-, Japan escape from that absolute monster.

"H-How about everyone calms down, England. We, n-need to work to-together, and we can't do that by arguing," Canada whispered, noticing how red the nation had gone. Internally, he sighed. This was going to take a long time, particularly when his guardian was in the mood he was in today…

* * *

Being the hero he was, America couldn't resist bursting into his boss's room to announce to the world (or bedroom) that the greatest nation had very bravely returned from the treacherous front-lines of the terribly bloody war in order to rally home support for the just cause of freedom and equality for all. He expressed his gallant servitude to his people and their leader by heroically offering his help towards his sickly boss by gently dumping him into a wheelchair before rocketing away to the Blue Room.

By the time the President had completely realized that America had returned, he was already situated and being offered a cup of coffee to wake him up. Sighing, he accepted.

"So, how did you get past the Secret Service?" Roosevelt asked after taking a sip.

"Get past the Secret Service? What are ya talkin bout, boss? They let me in the moment they recognized the Hero!" America exclaimed, hyper enough that he could have drunk a whole pot of coffee before waking up his boss. Honestly, that seems like something he would do anyway.

"May I ask why you're dragging me out of bed at this ungodly hour in the morning?" the President asked, thoroughly annoyed at having been woken up.

"I know how we can take down that Commie bastard!" the nation announced grandly.

"Um, you do know we're allied to him at the moment, right?"

"Yeah, so? The Hero never back down from a challenge!"

"Being allies means you can't attack him, you know," Roosevelt sighed.

"Nuh-uh, he left the Allies. He betrayed us in favor of kidnapping that little Asian demon and taking him home. They make the perfect duo, don't you think? I mean, one's an insane Commie murderer that spouts terrible propaganda that leads goodhearted citizens of my own country astray, and the other is a heartless monster that killed my people for absolutely no reason whatsoever," America growled.

"And this made you come home, why?" the man asked, not getting the point behind the nation's rant.

"To tell you I'm attacking the Commie now, of course!"

"Wait, WHAT?!"

"The others said they wanted to 'rescue Japan'. Why the hell they would want to do that, I have no idea. Anyways, it's perfect for me, cuz now I have a reason to go after that fatty. Even better, we can kill two birds with one stone by attacking Russia through Japan and get twice the damage done at once!"

Roosevelt shook his head, imploring America to back up. This was far too much to take so early in the morning. Especially since he was running on coffee and nothing else. However, oblivious to his boss's plea, America kept going on and on about his plans.

* * *

**A/N Okay, okay, I know. Bad ending. But there's a really good reason. You see, I actually had to split this chapter in half because I know from experience that reading a ten thousand word chapter can get kind of run-on-ish. So, this was the best place for the cut. **

**Anyway, I apologize for America's attitude. That's just the basic propaganda we're taught in school, so I at least know that that part is accurate *sigh*. **

**Carrying on, I hope I did justice to all the characters, particularly the bosses. I hope I didn't get any attitudes too messed up, anyway. **

**I'll get the next chapter up soon (it's already half done, at least!). **

**Thank you for reading~!**


	7. XOXO

**A/N**

**I'm Back~!**

**Sorry that it's been, like, two months... lucky for all of you, this chapter is the longest yet at 7,200+ words, so... yeah. Hope you all enjoy, and I'll see you at the end of the chapter.**

**Thanks to everyone that favorited and reviewed!**

**Disclaimer: Just because I'm writing a story about this particular fandom doesn't mean I own any of the characters or stuff like that. (It's FANFICTION, what did you expect?!)**

**Warning: Contains Awesomeness (though he doesn't do much this chapter), a still pissed off America, Romano, and slight fluff.**

**I also apologize in advance for anything that might be offensive towards specific countries. I'm just trying (and probably failing miserably) to keep everyone in character.**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

Chapter 7

The moment Japan regained awareness of his surroundings he knew he was no longer in the car. There was more space around him and he was lying down on something. Anyway, no matter how small he was he could not have been able to lie down in the back seat of that vehicle without having to bend his knees. He noted in relief that his limbs no longer felt heavy, meaning that the drug had worked its way out of his system, although it would take a few more days and many hours of sleep for the drugged haze to completely lift from his mind.

He drew in a few deep breaths to keep himself calm as he listened to his surroundings. A soft scrape of a page being turned, as well as a sigh from the reader, alerted him to the other person in the room.

Cautiously, Japan opened his eyes, looking through his lashes at his visitor. Much to his surprise, it was not Russia sitting there watching over him, but instead a small boy. He had messy, sandy blonde hair and violet eyes that were trained on the book before him as he curled up in a chair comfortably. Feeling quite a bit safer knowing Russia wasn't in the room, Japan made to sit up.

The boy jumped, crying, "You're awake!" having not heard his charge shift into consciousness, and instantly rushed over to help him. As soon as Japan had reoriented himself, the boy pressed a glass into his hands.

Raising his eyebrows, Japan croaked, "It isn't tea, is it?"

"No . . . it's water," the boy answered, giving him an odd look.

"Good." Immediately he began to sip the offered water, which felt wonderful on his parched throat. He could not remember the last time he had had something to drink. At least, something to drink that had not been laced with toxins. That probably was not good for his health.

As he drank the water, he noticed that the boy was trembling slightly, just small shakes, and found himself wondering if the child was all right. Draining the glass, he turned slightly towards the boy.

"Where am I?" he asked softly, glad his voice had steadied.

"M-Mr. Russia's house," the boy stuttered out. So he knew about the countries. Interesting. At his age that probably meant that he was a nation himself.

"Gomenasai. . . I am afraid, due to my limited knowledge of the other nations, that I cannot recall who you are," Japan informed the boy, rather curious as to whom he was.

"I-I'm L-Latvia," the boy whispered, his trembling intensifying and becoming even more visible.

"Nice to meet you," Japan murmured politely. "I am Japan."

"N-Nice to m-meet you too, Japan," Latvia said softly, giving a slightly watery smile as Japan took his offered hand. The Japanese man was concerned that the small nation was crying, but he did not want to breach on personal matters by mentioning it, so he averted his eyes.

"This may be an odd question, but what time is it?"

Latvia's eyes shot to his face, "A-Around 1800 hours, I th-think."

– That late?! – Japan thought in shock. He'd been out the whole day and had not even realized it (He was basing that off the assumption that the wedding had taken place early morning; which was probably a safe bet, seeing as the haze had lifted during the ceremony. That meant that he had probably missed his morning tea).

The small Nordic nation read the alarm in Japan's eyes and quickly grew alarmed himself, remembering his orders. "I-I . . . I have t-to go tell Mr. R-Russia that you're awake," he whispered fearfully.

Dread filled the Japanese man's stomach, but he swallowed the fear and waved Latvia off. "Go," he said, almost so softly that the other nation did not hear him. "We do not want him to be mad that you did not tell him right away."

"B-But-"

"I will be fine, Latvia-kun," Japan deadpanned, sounding much more sure than he felt. "He is my husband now, after all. If I cannot handle being alone with him every now and then, this will become a long and painful relationship."

The boy nodded, a bit unsurely, before heading to the door with a look of relief upon his face. Once the door had closed, he rushed off to find Russia while Japan was left to deal with himself.

– _Are you sure you can handle him_? – Kuro demanded the moment they had been left alone.

– As sure as I am that you can be annoying – Japan retaliated.

– _So there's no hope whatsoever_ – Kuro summarized in disgust.

– You should not assume that, Kuro. After all, while you may think your own company absolutely splendid, I happen to find you to be unbearable. –

– _Lesser beings always find the truth to be an unbearable inconvenience, even at the best of times_ – Kuro replied loftily. – _Do not degrade yourself to their level, Kiku, or I swear to the Kami that I will take over again. _–

– How many times have you threatened that now? – Japan wondered, unable to stop poking fun at his other half. – Because it must be close to 100, yet you still have not succeeded. –

– _Oh shut up_, – Kuro grumbled. – _Anyway we have bigger problems_. –

– Such as? –

– _Oh, not much . . . just the fact that you're still in your wedding kimono, and I have no idea if there are any normal clothes around here for you to change into_. –

Japan glanced down, taking in his disheveled appearance. Wedding kimonos were not made to be slept in, especially not in cars or on couches. – That is a big problem – he agreed – Any suggestions? –

– _Not right now_ – Kuro sighed – _Do you have any ideas about how you're going to handle Russia? He'll be here any moment_. –

Heavy footsteps, vastly different from Latvia's, echoed through the hall as they neared the . . . was he in a library or sitting room? Either way, it was probably Russia.

"Speak of the devil," Japan muttered under his breath.

– _You may be more right than you wish_. –

The door swung open, interrupting any attempts to scold Kuro's pessimism. Russia slipped through the door into the room, which seemed to constrict around its occupant as he loomed over the couch. He walked over to where Japan was sitting, patting the smaller nation's head and ruffling his hair on his way to take a seat. Automatically, the Japanese man cringed away from his touch, though the Russian did not notice the action. Or perhaps he chose to ignore it. Japan was surprised that he had changed out of his wedding outfit before remembering that the whole day had gone by since the ceremony. By now, it would be ridiculous to stay in that suit.

Russia smiled happily at Japan as he sat across from him on the couch, inclining his head and letting his flaxen hair fall slightly in his face. "You are hungry, da?"

The grumble of his stomach cut off protests, and Japan colored slightly as he realized just how hungry he was. "I-I suppose I am a bit hungry, Russia-san," he whispered, cursing his stutter. The other still caught every word in the heavy silence that had fallen on the room.

"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, little flower. You will eat with me, da?" Russia asked pleasantly, though his tone left no room for discussion, let alone refusal.

"I suppose I have to," the nation deadpanned. The Russian stood, his brow creasing slightly in annoyance, and made to leave the room, but Japan quickly jumped up. "Where are my clothes?" he blurted out boldly. "I want to change out of this before we eat."

Russia turned back to him, his brow furrowed, eyes taking in Japan's attire. Whether the furrow was from annoyance or thought was something only Russia himself could determine. After a few tense moments, the man sighed. "I will have Estonia show you around, da?" he said stiffly, an icy smile upon his face. "He is useless at cooking, anyway."

"Arigato, Russia-san."

It had been easier than he had expected, but that did not change the rising insecurity in Japan's stomach. He sat down without even registering that he had stood, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the room and venture into the unknown. Even if that so-called unknown was just another nation's house, it did not change the fact that he had no idea where he was or even the layout of said house.

He wished Latvia would come back. He seemed like good company, and, even better, he knew his way around. Above all else, Japan hated the feeling of being lost, not knowing his way, and now he was presented with a task which was not just directionally challenging, but mentally challenging as well. Not only did he have no idea where he was or where he was going, but he had no inkling of what the future held in store for him. To be honest, it was terrifying.

Footsteps, lighter than Russia's, but not so light as to be Latvia's, echoed down the hall and snapped Japan out of his internal dilemma. Was it Estonia, or someone else? The door opened once again and a young man with cropped blonde hair and glasses framing his blue eyes entered the room. For some unknown reason, he was carrying a notebook which he kept one eye on all the time. It was disconcerting knowing that only half of the other's attention was focused on him at any one moment. The only thing that kept this newcomer from being labeled 'untrustworthy' in Japan's mind was the fact that he seemed inexplicably self-assured and you could put your faith in him to get things done.

He stood to greet the man, "Konichiwa. I am Japan," he said, bowing politely.

"I'm Estonia. Nice to meet you, Japan."

"It is nice to meet you as well, Estonia-san."

"Mr. Russia said something about a shower?"

"Ah, yes. If you would be so kind, Estonia-san, could you show me where my clothes are and then the shower? I would like to change before dinner, as staying in this outfit would be quite ridiculous," Japan said, gesturing to the extravagantly embroidered kimono.

"Yes of course. Come this way please," Estonia answered, motioning to the door. The island nation followed him into the hall and to the left, opposite of the right that Russia had taken earlier.

Curious, Japan inquired, "If it is not a bother, may I ask where we are in the house right now?"

"You may. We're in the South Wing, which is where the Living room, Sitting rooms, Library, Kitchen, and Dining Room are located. There is also a small bathroom at the end of the hall near the Dining Room. This hall connects to the Entrance Hall and the hall for the North-East Wing. All the bedrooms are in the North-East Wing, as well as the bathrooms. You were in one of the Sitting rooms near the Library, which we passed a moment ago."

Japan acknowledged the information with a nod, swallowing it as if it were a life-line. Even just the comfort of knowing his surroundings was enough. They reached the Entrance Hall and he was surprised to see his multiple suitcases shunted off to the side. Instantly he walked forward to take inventory. Both his Gold-edged and Silver-edged Black suitcases were there, which, according to his packing formula, contained clothes. Then there were the Dark Green and Blue cases, which held accoutrements that he normally felt he could not live without. As far as he could remember through the haze he had also packed his Katana set, but it was not leaning up against the wall as he would have expected. Was that a hallucination? It would not be all that farfetched for it to have been such.

Heaving a sigh, he walked over to the Silver-edged suitcase and deftly spun the lock. It opened with a click and revealed a large assortment of heavy winter kimonos, all of which, while too light to keep him truly warm in a Russian winter, were sure to keep him from freezing. His lips twitch up into a slight smile, glad that even being drugged out of his mind would not hinder his intuition.

A bit of self-confidence restored, he picked out a particularly warm kimono and closed the case before opening the Blue one. Inside, just as he had predicted, there were a bag containing an assortment of toiletries which he was certain he would be thankful for later. Straightening, he caught Estonia's eye.

"Where should I put these, Estonia-san?"

"Hmm? Oh, just leave them there. We'll take them to the room you'll be staying in."

"I do not want to be a bother to you."

"Don't worry, you probably won't be," Estonia sighed bitterly. "You're just another person stuck here, like us. Since we're all expected to pitch in eventually, you might as well enjoy your freedom while it lasts."

Japan hesitated before murmuring, "Arigato, Estonia-san. I will take your advice to heart."

They headed off into what Japan supposed was the North-East Wing, and Estonia quickly ushered him into a simple, tiled room which contained a shower-bathtub hybrid, a sink, and a toilet. Japan supposed that they did not separate the two in western communities like he did in his house.

"I'll be back for you in a half-hour to show you to the Dining Room," Estonia said briskly.

"Alright, Estonia-san. I will see you then."

The door closed, leaving Japan to scrutinize himself in the small, albeit clean, mirror in the room. Kami, did he look terrible. Hair was flying everywhere and the kimono was wrinkled. Methodically he went to remove the hair pins and other accessories before pulling his hair out of its fancy bun and set himself to removing the hair extensions. It was painstaking work at first, although it only took a few minutes to perfect his technique, due to how well the extensions blended into his own hair. Had he not known how long his hair was from before, he would have assumed that the length was entirely natural himself.

Once the extra hair had been piled onto the small counter, he set about taking off the wedding kimono before scraping as much of the remaining rice-powder and other make-up off of his face. He did all of this as quickly as possible, not sparing himself any time for thought. It was only when he had stepped under the warm water in the shower did he allow himself to relax. The small knots in his muscles were rubbed out with the streams of water and the last of the make-up was erased with some scrubbing. Japan turned his attention to his hair, carefully massaging soap through the short black strands before letting the water run over his head.

As he continued to clean up, he thought of what he was going to do. Sure, thanks to Estonia's explanation, he could now navigate through the house with some trial and error. However, the problem was he had no idea where he was in the vast expanse of the Soviet Union. This lack of knowledge certainly hindered any immediate chance he had of escaping from the house successfully, let alone the country.

Even if he did try to return to his home in Japan, there was the problem of which way. Did he go through the Human World or try his luck within their own? Did he try for freedom right away, or bide his time. Immediately, he latched onto that idea and decided on biding his time. There was no point in escaping if he was going to freeze to death in the northern winter.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, feeling better now that he had actually done something semi-productive, even if it was just deciding on waiting a little bit before trying anything. As if it had been timed, the moment Japan, now fully dressed, set about drying his hair someone knocked on the door. Hurrying over to let the person in, he discovered it was Estonia. It had already been a half an hour?

"Are you ready?"

"Almost," Japan replied, shaking loose water from his hair before attacking it with the towel with renewed vigor. They definitely could not be late, even if Japan could allow himself to be lax on his punctuality. From what he had heard about the northern nation, Russia would probably kill them if he thought Japan was trying to skip out on their first meal together.

Giving his hair one final shake, the small nation quickly let it settle on his head, glad that his short hair hardly ever gave him problems, always drying in order. How some nations could stand having cowlicks, he would never comprehend.

Seeing that Japan was ready, Estonia quickly ushered him out of the bathroom and down the hall into the South Wing once again. The island nation found himself feeling rather tense, the relaxing effects of the shower wearing off as he grew closer and closer to the one person who had managed to make him so uncomfortable over the last few years. It may have been a habit, but there were many valid reasons behind his fear of Russia, unlike other nations who were merely afraid of his size.

At least other nations did not have to worry about finding Russia looking through their windows, or even, Kami forbid, standing in their rooms at night.

Japan seriously hoped that the latter incident had been a nightmare.

Like always, Japan was lost in thought about the past, and was therefore very surprised when Estonia suddenly stopped in front of him. It felt as if a chunk of lead had dropped in his stomach when the Baltic nation quietly reached up and knocked on the door to announce their presence before opening it. The Estonian glanced at Japan, who managed to nod though he was frozen stiff out of fear for what waited on the other side of that door, and bowed the Asian inside the room, closing the door behind him.

Russia sat there waiting at the table, now in his usual winter coat and scarf despite the occasion, and smiled at Japan; a smile which promised pain and suffering if Japan did not sit down right away.

– Someone please kill me now, – came a desperate thought as he took his seat, mentally preparing himself the best he could for the obviously trying evening to come.

* * *

It was mid-morning when the first of the former Allies arrived at Italy's house to begin the meeting. Germany, Romano, and Spain were already there, along with Austria (still under Germany's control, and mostly there to play the violin at Italy's house), and Prussia (he had come along to awesomely annoy Austria and support his not-as-awesome younger brother).

Because his house was closest, France arrived first. He had barely had time to level a glare at Germany before Spain and Prussia caught his attention. Britain arrived soon after, Canada in tow, and China was close behind him despite the time difference.

Many headache-inducing hours later, America finally walked in, cheerfully announcing that the party could start since the hero had arrived.

"Bloody hell, you git. What is it with Americans and their idiotic 'fashionably late' philosophy?" England muttered as they headed towards the conference room.

"Paleontology? What are you going on about old man?" America exclaimed, overhearing his comment. "I doubt T-Rexes were late to anything, anyways. Dude, they're the kings of all giant-lizard-thingys, so everyone else is _early_, not the other way around."

"They are called _dinosaurs,_ you prat."

"Which were giant lizards," America countered.

"The proper terminology is dinosaurs," the nation huffed before turning away, refusing to listen to America anymore.

France chuckled at America's idiocy and internally debated whether to make a move on the Englishman or not when they arrived at the conference room. Deciding now was as good a time as ever saw the seating arrangement indubitably sketchy as Britain was seated between France and China with America directly across. Romano refused to sit next to the Hamburger Bastard and ended up next to China, and Prussia sat furthest from Romano (therefore next to America). Spain decided to take the final seat, between his two best friends, and Germany, who, despite not being the host country, had taken it upon himself to run the meeting and therefore the one end seat, with Italy situated between Germany and America.

Naturally, Austria took his seat at the piano, because knowing that he had to be in the conference room wouldn't stop him from trying desperately to drown out the horror that they called a meeting destined to occur. Canada, being the only one left standing, noted the dearth of seats at the table and politely asked Austria if he could join him. Which, of course, left the two saner nations entirely out of the chaos that was scheduled to ensue in due time.

"Alright," Germany began once everyone was seated. "I assume that everyone here has either reached some form of agreement with their leaders or is here to help Japan anyway."

"Do you have any news aru?" China butted in immediately. England glanced at Germany attentively; fending off France's wandering hands with practiced ease.

The German sighed, "Nein. Our Ambassadors for Japan won't return for another hour or so, and, since we're still technically at war with Russia, we have no jurisdiction or branch of any sort in his country."

"Our Ambassadors have been sent back as well," France acknowledged, glad they hadn't been the only ones.

"Have you been told why?"

"No. It is most unfortunate."

"How about the rest of you?" Germany asked, glancing around the table at the remaining Allies. A resounding 'NO' echoed around the room. He scowled, disliking the lack of news surrounding his friend's disappearance.

"You mean it's been almost a week and you still don't have any idea what's going on with Japan aru?!" China cried out in horror.

"It appears so," England sighed. "I hope-"

"Hey Iggy!" America yelled suddenly, "Do ya think if I punch the Commie Bastard he'll tell me where that little shit it? Cuz he still needs to answer to the HERO and, since I'm the HERO, I punch the baddies and put 'em in jail! Right? RIGHT!"

The Englishman gave his former colony a pained glare, crying "Of course it wouldn't work, you git!", which was completely ignored by the other country who had started humming something that sounded suspiciously like the 'Bob the Builder' theme song (only now it was 'I'M THE HERO!' with new and improved lyrics).

Italy, on the other hand, looked at the American in confusion, "Ve, why would hitting Russia put him in jail, America?"

"First of all, that isn't possible bastardo. Second of all, he wasn't talking about the Vodka Bastard, idiota!" Romano yelled across the table before fixing a glare that could peel paint on America. "And don't you dare talk about Japan like that, Hamburger Bastard! He's the one we're trying to save before he gets so screwed up that he turns into a mini Vodka Bastard."

America grinned maniacally at that, seeing the possibilities, though quite a few nations, the Awesome Prussia included, shuddered at the very idea of their sweet and reserved Japan turning into a communist 'freak' like Russia had.

Over in their corner at the piano, Canada suddenly stopped mid-duet and turned to the door. Someone was knocking, and, as usual, nobody had noticed. Quietly he excused himself and answered the door. A man dressed in an Italian uniform was standing at attention; he saluted the nation and requested Feliciano. Canada tried to remember who Feliciano was before realizing he meant Italy.

"O-oh! He's just inside this room. Y-you probably d-don't want t-to come in; it's a mess. Can I take him the message?" the Canadian whispered, trying to be heard over the racket coming from inside.

"Ah… si," the man said, looking uneasy. "May I ask who you are, Mr. …?"

"Ca-… M-Mathew. Mathew Williams, representative of C-Canada," the nation stuttered out.

"Please give this to Mr. Feliciano Vargas, then." The guard handed over a telegram with 'Urgent!' blazing across the envelope in bright red.

"I will, thank you," Canada murmured, accepting the note. He hurried over to the table, planning on handing it to Italy, but America intercepted him.

"Hey bro! Where'd ya spring from?" his brother yelled, with his annoying laugh. It cut off abruptly before getting exponentially louder when he noticed the telegram. "Cool! You got a message for me?" America grinned, yanking the envelope from his grasp.

"A-America, no, that's for-"

"The awesome HERO, right? Well look no further Mattie boy, cuz you found me!" the nation yelled obliviously over the rest of Canada's sentence, opening the telegram and reading the message. However, his brow furrowed about halfway through and he scratched his neck in confusion before going back to the top. He shook his head before turning back to his brother.

"Hey, Mattie, can ya go back and tell them that this message didn't come through right? The whole thing is in gibberish, none of it makes any sense."

Canada sighed just as Italy reached down to pick up the envelope. The latter looked at the envelope in surprise, realizing it was addressed to him and not America.

"Ve~, America? That message is for me, not you."

"Eh, really?" America exclaimed, handing the telegram over to the little Italian. "No wonder it was in some wacky language instead of English!"

Romano glared at the American, trying to yell over England (who was lecturing his former colony about reading the address before assuming everything belonged to him) about the beauty that is the Italian language.

Italy, on the other hand, tuned everyone out and settled down to read the message with China and Germany peaking over his shoulders despite the fact that neither could read Italian.

MR FELICIANO VARGAS OR ITALY VENEZIANO STOP

JAPAN IS IN TURMOIL STOP. STALIN AND EMPEROR HIROHITO HAVE AGREED TO MERGE THEIR COUNTRIES STOP. IT IS BEING SAID THAT RUSSIA PROPOSED A MARRIAGE TO STRENGTHEN THE MERGE STOP. THE CEREMONY WILL TAKE PLACE THE MORNING OF THE TWENTY FIRST OF DECEMBER STOP. I WISH YOU THE BEST OF LUCK STOP.

Panic curled in the Italian's stomach as he began counting back the days, trying to remember what the date was. – Blessed God, please let it be the twentieth. Please God, I beg you! – the nation thought, repeating the mantra when he finally got the courage to voice his question.

"What day is it?"

This simple question cut across the meeting room, silencing Romano, England, and even Mr. Austria at the piano, as everyone turned to stare at Italy – he noted faintly that his face was probably super pale and his hands were trembling.

America was the first to answer, "It's the twenty-first. Why?"

Everyone watched in horror as the Italian burst into tears without warning, burying his face in his knees and shaking violently. The telegram fell from his hand and slipped onto the table. Romano picked it up and skimmed the short message before going pale and swearing loudly.

"Mother of God! I swear I'm going to murder that fucking bastardo the next time I see him! How dare he do this!"

"What? What's going on aru?!" China cried out, on the verge of a panic attack.

Romano drew a shaky breath before yelling, "That Vodka Bastard forced Japan to marry him this morning!"

"WHAT?!"

* * *

Japan would have made a lot of money if he had bet Estonia that dinner was going to be the most awkward event of the day. It was hard on the Island nation, trying to eat traditionally prepared, Russian style food while the country stared at him. And Russia made it obvious too, no hiding his gaze whenever he was caught in the act, no sir. In fact, he did the exact opposite and gave Japan a decidedly creepy smile every time their eyes met. It only served to make the Japanese man more nervous than he had been before, especially when he noticed – out of the corner of his eye, naturally – that when they were not looking at each other the Russian's gaze wandered to less savory places and raised a blush on Japan's part.

This left Japan in his current predicament. He was glaring at his food, silently blaming it for all the terrible things that had happened recently, and avoiding Russia's gaze like the plague due to the fact that if their eyes met it would induce another awkward staring contest. However, Japan knew that Russia was checking him out when they were not looking into each other's eyes, and that indefinitely freaked him out.

What was worse, the staring contests and creepy smiles, or being quite obviously checked out by his stalker? And Russia was still his stalker; just because they were now forcibly married had absolutely no effect on the relationship of stalker and victim in Japan's mind. In fact, all it did was justify Japan's claims as well as make Russia's job of stalking decidedly easier than it had been. Seeing as it was now legal and all that…

To put it simply, things were not looking good for Japan. No matter how he looked at it, his good Karma had run out and he was currently reaping the reward of any and all bad things that he had ever done. After thousands of years, that was a lot of bad Karma to get rid of in one go, as his life was obviously trying to do. Yep, the next few months going on years were going to suck royally.

Resigned to his fate, Japan decided on a spur-of-the-moment basis that he could deal with awkward staring contests (they were NOT gazing deeply into the eyes of your one true love or any such bull… though Russia had probably tricked himself into thinking it was, hence the super creepy smiles) as opposed to getting checked out by the man that had made his life so miserable. On that note, Japan jerked up his head to glare at the Russian, initiating another awkward staring contest, and there they stayed for quite a few minutes.

Suddenly, Russia did something that broke the careful sequence of events they had established at the beginning of the meal and had held up for the whole hour and a half that they had been sitting there; all the while letting their food get cold to the point it would have been like chewing on icicles. He started talking.

"I assume you are done eating, da?"

Japan let his eyes be drawn back to the food on his plate, ignoring the chill that went up his spine at the Russian's voice, and gave a noncommittal shrug. That assumption was neither here nor there – especially since he would not have been able to eat the remaining food as is unless it was reheated.

With another chilling smile, the large nation took his plate away and headed for the kitchen. Automatically, and very much against his will, Japan jumped up and followed him in order to help out. Russia's smile only broadened when Japan joined him at the sink and started cleaning dishes. Damn his manners. Damn his life, for that matter…

Or Russia. That worked too.

For quite a while, they worked in silence, Japan internally shuddering every time he felt Russia's gaze. Just as Japan finished off the last plate, the Russian spoke again.

"I think, now that you aren't as empty of food and water, it is a good time to say what is expected, da?"

Thinking it was better to get it over sooner rather than later, the Japanese man turned to Russia and gave the nation his undivided attention, all the while cringing at Russia's smile. Something about that smile scared him to no end, though he could not quite place his finger on _why_ it disturbed him so much.

"As you may have gathered, little flower, my country is not doing its best right now because of the war. Because of this, I do not want you leaving the house."

"What?" Japan whispered, feeling a dead weight drop in his stomach.

"This is not your country, da? I expect that we keep it that way," Russia said, all pretense of cheerfulness melting away as his face turned stony. "I would hate for there to be an incident or misunderstanding, da."

The island nation's face paled slightly, not wanting to get on the Russian's bad side. "Y-Yes. I suppose so, Russia-san."

The smile returned, though Russia's violet eyes were still icy. "Good. Now come. It is time to sleep, da?"

Resigned to his fate, Japan let Russia lead him to his new room in the North-East wing, glad to see upon arrival that Estonia really had brought his suitcases to his new quarters. He turned to Russia, about to bid him goodnight, when he saw the larger nation shrugging out of his coat.

– What? – Japan thought, freezing in shock.

For once, Kuro seemed to be just as scared as he felt, for he remained silent. Averting his eyes from the now topless Russia, Japan glanced around the room and noticed many of the nation's possession scattered around the room. Then his eyes fell on the bed.

The. Bed.

Singular.

Up until this point, the whole concept of marriage had seemed like a bad dream, something Japan would be able to separate himself from when they weren't together acting as a 'married couple'. Suddenly, all the implications crashed down on his far too vivid imagination, which left absolutely no question what sharing a bed meant. His legs started quivering in fear, all strength fleeing his body. Had he been alone, Japan was sure he would have started crying at the unfairness of it all.

But he wasn't alone.

Oh no, Russia was going to make sure of that.

What in the world had he done to deserve this? Did he accidentally offend some powerful Kami? Well, he DID defy the Emperor…

If he wasn't a country, he would have lost his head for doing that.

… Was being forced to marry his creepy stalker his compensation? Only the Emperor would know.

Well, he could figure that out later. The bigger problem was what in the world was he going to do? If he really was going to share a room with his stalker, he had much bigger problems than worrying whether or not Russia would be watching him sleep that night or not. Oh no, the question was now if he was going to be able to sleep at all.

Without realizing it, Japan began talking.

"You do know, Russia-san, that it is unfair to be able to lay down some rules and not let me have a say."

The Russian gave Japan an innocent smile, "What do you have in mind, little flower?"

"Oh nothing too much – just the common courtesies and conveniences that would be given to anyone. Privacy, for instance," Japan glanced around the bedroom. "Or, at least, as much as can be mustered in such a small space. That would, of course, include a bit of time to myself."

Russia nodded slowly, his face unusually grave as he agreed.

Japan took a deep breath and continued, "One more thing. I know we are under a marital agreement in order to bring our countries closer together, but I would like you to refrain from physical contact as much as possible."

Kuro snorted – _Translation: keep your hands off of us, you bastard_. –

Japan watched carefully as all emotion dropped from the Russian's face. Slowly the nation sat down on the bed – now in his bedclothes – and began considering Japan's rules. Suddenly, he turned around, looking vaguely determined.

"I agree, if you allow one exception."

Cautiously, Japan inquired, "And that is?"

"Hugs and kisses are still allowed, da?"

The Island nation froze, staring at the creepy smile that returned full force on the Russian's face. Was he dense? Did Russia not get that Japan was trying to stay away from that type of thing, hence the 'NO PHYSICAL CONTACT' rule.

– _Although_, – Kuro pointed out, – _getting kissed is a whole lot better than getting raped_. –

– Good point, – Japan thought morosely.

He spoke up, directing a question at the larger nation, "Why?"

Russia gazed at him thoughtfully before shrugging, "These rules apply to everyone, da? I cannot make promises my family cannot keep."

"Family?"

"Da. Everyone under this roof, as well as my sisters, is family. Sister Ukraine is a big hugger."

– _Don't be fooled, Kiku_! – Kuro roared in his mind. – _By extending the rules to his so called 'family' he can create a loophole for himself_! –

However, Japan ignored him in favor of contemplating the offer. While 'no physical contact' was preferable, he did have to conform to western customs a little bit. Plus, he got alone time and some privacy thrown into the deal. On top of that, negotiation would only create resentment between the two of them if he tried to get Russia to give him everything he asked for.

Out loud he muttered, "I-I suppose that's a good enough compromise…", all the while cursing his stutter and ignoring Kuro's colorful language.

The Russian brightened, and Japan could only give a strangled cry as he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, forcing all the air out of his lungs and leaving him gasping in shock. Eventually Russia saw it fit to release him and began tugging Japan towards the bed.

No. Not even over his dead body would he let this happen. Automatically, and quite stubbornly as well, Japan dropped into a meditation stance on the floor – completely ignoring the bruise inducing pain that came with it – and refused to budge an inch.

Russia made an odd face, a creepy smile still in place but he looked… confused. "What are you doing, little flower?"

"Meditating," Japan deadpanned, settling down on the cold floor.

"Ah, yes, but why are you doing that _now_?"

"I always meditate for a while before going to sleep," Japan muttered, focusing on drowning out Russia's voice.

"Yes, I know," Russia said, a bit impatiently, growing irritated. "However, it is not warm like at your house. You will freeze, da."

The Japanese man took a deep breath. "Well I suppose I'll have to make do, then," he retorted, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "I would hate to give up my meditation simply because the climate takes a bit of time to get used to." And with that, Japan shut his eyes and began his rhythmic breathing, trying to fall into a trance.

Russia's voice abruptly cut through the silence, "Alright then. Goodnight, my little icicle." With a chuckle, the nation climbed onto the bed and immediately settled down for some sleep.

Despite trying his hardest, Japan could not quite shake the uneasiness that came from being in the same room as Russia. So, instead of concentrating on his own body and trying to fall into a trance, he listened to Russia's breathing, and relaxed marginally when the larger nation's breath slowed down and evened out. However, even that was not enough to turn his conscious mind inward.

Breathing. Right. He started focusing on his breath again, drowning out the world with the beating of his heart and the rush of blood though his veins and arteries. Concentrating became increasingly difficult when his attention wandered to his limbs due to the chill. Once Japan had noticed the cold that was slowly freezing his appendages, he could not help but turn his senses outward only to shiver as he became aware of the temperature. It seemed to be dropping a degree a minute, which would leave him frozen solid by morning.

Suddenly, meditating all night and ignoring the bed seemed like a really, REALLY bad idea. – '_Little icicle,_' huh? – Japan thought. – He may very well be right. –

Growing increasingly uncomfortable by the minute, the nation tried to will away the cold, or at the very least withstand it. Bad idea. Now he was acutely aware of the cold seeping in to his body. Trying to distract himself, Japan started counting seconds. He wanted to get something to warm up, but, despite his even breathing, it was doubtful that Russia was asleep. Even children could mimic sleep, for Kami's sake!

With that in mind, Japan vowed he would outlast Russia. As far as he knew, nobody could lie down in a comfortable, warm place and breathe evenly with their eyes closed for two hours without falling asleep as some point. He continued counting seconds.

…

At least two hours later, one very cold nation quietly slid to his feet. He glided over to his open suitcase and carefully extracted his sleepwear. Listening to Russia's breath the entire time, Japan swiftly changed and repacked his kimono. On nearly frozen feet, he walked over to what he assumed was his side of the bed. Normally he would have been much more wary about climbing into bed with the Russian, but at the moment he just did not care. He was frozen and tired while the bed was warm and inviting.

However, before Japan got into bed, he carefully leaned forward towards Russia and stretched out a hand, cautiously waving it in front of the nation's face. His senses, despite being numb from the cold, had gone hypersensitive as he tried to discern whether the Russian was awake or not. Everything checked out; Russia was well and truly asleep.

Perfect.

Wary of his icy appendages, Japan maneuvered himself under the covers, making sure nothing brushed against the large nation behind him and woke him. Satisfied that nothing was out of place, he immediately settled down, ready to fall asleep.

Suddenly, a large pair of arms wrapped around the Japanese man's waist and pulled him against the Russian they belonged to. It was only thanks to his training (and manliness) that Japan did not squeak in surprise or fright from the sudden attack. A wave of warmth rushed over the nation as he was pressed to Russia's chest, and, despite how wonderful being warm felt, Japan immediately tensed, readying himself for the next move Russia would try to make.

Nothing.

Confused, Japan twisted his head around, catching a glimpse of Russia's peaceful, sleeping face.

Huh.

Maybe this was an unconscious reaction. A dream, perhaps?

Knowing that it would be useless to try and get out of the Russian's grasp, Japan tried to relax and accept the warmth that radiated from the large nation. Within seconds, his breath deepened and the fatigued nation fell asleep.

* * *

Soon after Japan had drifted off in Russia's arms, the latter cracked an eye open cautiously. His little flower was still there in his arms – it hadn't been a dream! Happily, the Russian pressed a feather-light kiss to the crown of Japan's head and then settled down to sleep, a gentle smile on his face.

* * *

**A/N **

**See? Fluff!... Kind of...**

**Anyway, Notes! **

**I also don't own Bob the Builder... I sort of just started humming that while writing that scene. Don't deny it, all of you - look it up on youtube or something if you don't know it! - can totally see America humming** _I'm the HERO_ **whenever he wants to ignore someone. **

**To clarify what Japan meant when he said he crossed the Emperor: The Emperor is sort of a god of his own right in Shinto. Wikipedia can explain it better than I can, and, if you're reading this, you obviously have internet...**

**Oh, before I forget, thanks to Misa-chan (my absolutely wonderful Ojou-sama/friend) who caught that I was spelling Latvia wrong. For some strange reason, I spelled it Lativa, which is a serious no-no. Thanks again!**

**Now then... I have a couple more chapters planned out, then this story is going to be semi-free-for-all until the last two or three chapters. So, that being said, if any of you have a suggestion for situations that can drive Japan and Russia closer together (or for failed attempts to save Japan on the Allies side of the story) I would greatly appreciate it. Don't worry, Russia's sisters are coming in next chapter, and then we have Christmas and Finland after that, but I need a way to stretch this fic out a bit more! **

**So if any of you have ideas, or want to see something, please leave it in a review or PM me.(Even if you don't have an idea, reviews are always appreciated!)  
**

**Thanks!**


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